Friend and Foe
by enoby
Summary: It's 1898 and Hogwarts, against all better judgement, is hosting the Triwizard Tournament. Albus is surprised when he meets a Durmstrang student who may not be on par with him in talent, but makes up for it in cleverness, charm, and spirit. Maybe he's met his rival, or maybe - just maybe - he's met his match. / AD x GG / WIP
1. Chapter 1

Hi everyone! This is my first time uploading to ffn. I hope you enjoy. X-Posted from AO3.

* * *

It began with a cup of tea - and Albus was not one to turn down a cup of tea, especially if it meant getting out of the muggy heat of a summer afternoon. He found himself in Mrs Bagshot's sitting room, clutching one of her ornate teacups and wondering if it would be appropriate to ask her for another lump of sugar. Sweetening charms never did it for him, never worked like the real thing.

"Next year is a big year," she said, gazing at Albus over her own cup. "Your last, too, isn't it?"

Albus nodded. He was already mentally preparing his answers to the questions that always followed this one - _Yes, ma'am, I'm preparing to take N.E. in every subject but Divination, never quite had the knack for it -_

"Even if it weren't," she continued, "I'd expect you to enter, of course; a young wizard as accomplished as you are already, why, there's no doubt you'd be chosen!" Her face twisted into a bright smile, ruby-red lips pressed together.

"I'm sorry," Albus said, "but I'm not sure what you're talking about. Chosen for… what, exactly?"

Her free hand flew to her mouth. "Why, I had no idea they hadn't told you yet! Do they want you to come in unprepared?" At Albus's startled look, she finally elaborated, a glint in her eyes: "The Triwizard Tournament, son, it's being held at Hogwarts next year! And you'll be entering, there's no reason not to."

Albus took a deep breath in - and then exhaled, all at once. "Mrs Bagshot," he said, carefully, pulling his collar from his neck with a long finger, "please forgive me if this is rude, but - isn't it, well, dangerous? Didn't someone _die_? If I recall correctly - which I usually do - the contestants in this tournament are terribly prone to dying."

"But that was all years ago, and I've been told it's safer now, they'll make sure of that." Mrs Bagshot chuckled like it was of no concern to her - and why would it be, since she wasn't the one who would be urged by every teacher and student to enter? Of course Albus _wanted_ to. He also wanted to keep his limbs, and maybe make it past the age of seventeen.

Even with every doubt circling through his mind, Mrs Bagshot lowered her tone and insisted, suddenly serious -

"Listen, Albus, if you can't make it out of that tournament alive, nobody can."

* * *

 _12 August 1898_

 _Dear Albus,_

 _Thanks for the letter; I appreciate being in the loop on these sorts of things. The Triwizard Tournament, then! I told my family. They can't wait to see you win. Don't even try to argue this one; you'll be doing Hogwarts a big favor by competing. Whatever people they bring in from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang won't know what hit them._

 _Hope your birthday was fantastic. I wish I could've been there to celebrate with you. Since you're finally of age, drink plenty of firewhisky and do lots of magic. (I'll pretend you weren't already doing both!)_

 _Lots of love,_

 _E._

 _P.S. Congrats on Head Boy! I bet Selwyn's pissed._

* * *

The Beauxbatons students arrived first, in shimmery blue satin and looking thoroughly out of place among the dark grey mass of the Hogwarts student body. Albus smiled thinly at the two boys who had taken the seats across from Elphias and him, while wondering if either of them would end up being the champion for their school.

It was best not to get ahead of himself. He hadn't even entered his name yet, much less been picked. Of course, he had done a bit of research on how the Goblet picked the contestants - and he had to admit he had a decent chance - but arrogance at this stage would be unwise. No, arrogance at any stage would be unwise.

One of the boys leaned over to the other and whispered in French, "What are we waiting for? I'm starving - I wish Maître Segal had let us eat on the trip beforehand."

The other, who had the beginnings of a beard despite looking young, smiled wryly. "But Lionel, eating before a feast would be rude!"

"What's rude is making us wait this long for food," grumbled Lionel, as the boy next to him started to laugh. "I hope the headmistress herself is preparing it for us, or I'll be seriously disappointed."

"What's rude," Albus interrupted, in smooth, unfaltering French, "is insulting my school while you're sitting right in front of me."

The boys glanced at each other nervously, both obviously taken aback.

Elphias pulled the corners of his mouth down when he noticed the shift in tension, but had seemingly made the wise judgement call not to point it out. It was then that Professor Mole appeared at the front of the Great Hall, not looking too pleased, and waited for the Hogwarts and Beauxbatons students to quiet down.

"As I'm sure many of you have noticed, there seems to have been some sort of mishap with the Durmstrang students," she said, and the shoulders of every student seemed to drop. "I have not received word about their whereabouts yet, but for now, I think it best that we begin dinner without them. I will continue to attempt contact - "

Her words were swallowed by the sound of a gigantic mass of water hitting the side of the castle. For one fleeting moment Albus was afraid that the wave would break through the glass windows, but they held up, no doubt magically enforced. Nearly every student at the Hufflepuff table leapt from their seats and ran over to the windows to get a closer look at what had just happened; the teachers were not far behind.

Professor Mole made her way towards the nearest window and squinted out for a moment, even amid the sudden noise. Then she turned back around and surveyed the Hall with narrowed eyes, until at last her gaze landed on Albus. For a moment they stared at each other across the room - and then she smiled and beckoned him over.

"The Durmstrang students are here, aren't they?" Albus observed when she was finally within earshot. Professor Mole still had the same tired smile on her face - but her eyes were fixed on him fondly.

"I believe they are - and I expect they may need help drying off."

Albus, the head girl Adeline Crouch, the headmistress, and the Heads of Houses rushed outside. The ground was spongy and wet, as if it had been storming for days. It was not difficult to find the Durmstrang students, even in the dark - they had, after all, arrived on a massive ship, which had turned up in the Black Lake. The man standing before them was, surprisingly, beaming.

"Had a bit of a rough trip, but it's nothing a few charms and glasses of firewhisky can't fix!" he called, descending from the ship as if he were light as a feather.

"Glad to see you and your ship made it in one piece, Hallberg," Professor Mole said, and Albus could tell she was more than a little bit relieved. "Why don't you bring your students inside? We were just about to start the feast."

"We've still made it in time for food? That's the best news I've gotten all day," remarked one of the boys, and the rest laughed. The headmaster of Durmstrang - Professor Hallberg - made a face like a grimace, but in the dark, it was hard to tell.

It became apparent that they were all wearing bloodred cloaks when they jumped down to the ground, and thankfully they seemed to be dry as well - likely they had been inside the ship when it had turned up. Albus and Adeline, as head students, had been tasked with giving any visitors to the school a brief tour, so they led the Durmstrang students inside while the headmasters talked outdoors.

"As you will be spending the year here," Adeline began, her hands stiffly clasped together in front of her, "we would like to make you feel as welcome as possible. Hogwarts is an ever-changing building, so you may have trouble finding your way around at first. However, please know that our staff and prefects will be happy to direct you wherever you need to go."

She was met with a mixture of blank stares and automatic nods, but, in typical Adeline fashion, was undeterred. Albus had always admired that about her. He knew many thought her rude, but after he had gotten to know her, he realized it was just the way she was. She never overdid things; she was to-the-point and didn't care if it wasn't enough for some people.

Albus tried his best to hurry the tour along, knowing that everybody was waiting impatiently for the feast to start. He skipped taking them to the library altogether since it was on another floor, and Adeline frowned to herself when she noticed. After giving them a glimpse of the moving staircases, he reminded them that they would be here all year and that there was no need to reveal it all on the first night, was there?

"Hear, hear," said the boy in the back, and the twenty or so Durmstrang students laughed again. In the light, Albus could see him better - he was average height, built strong, with wavy blonde hair and a grin that seemed to fill his face. He seemed to love the attention that came from telling jokes, and in fact didn't look angry at all when he saw Albus staring, just turned his eyes on him and gave him - a wink? No, it had to be a trick of the light.

Yet as they made their way back to the Great Hall, a fair amount more spiritedly, he trotted up next to Albus and tapped him on the shoulder. Albus turned to look down at him and saw him holding out a hand; somewhat startled, he took it.

"You're Albus Dumbledore, right?"

Albus raised his eyebrows. He had gained a name for himself in Britain, especially after working with the Wizengamot, but the idea that a Durmstrang student knew him was unexpected.

"How did you know?"

The other boy chuckled, probably at his expression. "Don't be alarmed. Professor Hallberg told us about you. He wanted us to know what we would be going up against."

Unfortunately, this only disturbed Albus more, but he kept the emotions from reaching his face this time. "I'm… flattered," he said finally. "And your name?"

"Gellert Grindelwald," the boy said, almost with a touch of pride. "I'm hoping I won't have to compete against you now - you're not what I expected."

"How do you mean?"

Gellert opened his mouth to respond, then seemed to think better of it. Eventually he said, "I expected someone like you to be more arrogant."

 _But I am,_ Albus wished he could admit. He had known Gellert would say that - everybody expected him to be arrogant. It was a nice surprise for them when he downplayed his own achievements, avoided mentioning his Outstandings, pretended he didn't think he was better than his peers. Could the other seventh years even be considered his peers anymore? Most of them had nowhere near the amount of experience or power that he did. He was their Head Boy, not their friend.

"You seem very…" Gellert hesitated. "Mature. Charming."

Albus felt himself freeze.

They were at the doors to the Great Hall, and Adeline was taking hold of one giant handle. Albus' eyes flickered from her to Gellert before he grabbed the other one and pulled the door open. He was aware of everybody in the Great Hall twisting their necks in order to see the Durmstrang students for the first time, but he was more aware of the fact that his heart was beating faster than it had been before.

Gellert glanced back at Albus for just a second before he followed the others. He didn't say anything, just wore the same satisfied grin. And Albus, only for a moment, wished he could smile as confidently, as freely, as Gellert did.


	2. Chapter 2

The next time Albus heard Gellert's name, it was in Professor Mole's voice. Her head was bowed over the slip of parchment and illuminated in the unnatural blue flame of the Goblet of Fire. Behind her, Professor Hallberg looked disappointed, almost wary, while Maître Segal clapped politely. If they were younger, Albus would have nudged Elphias and pointed out the expression on Hallberg's face, but it was different now.

The flames turned red again, and the applause died down. Professor Mole grabbed the parchment from the air and unfolded it; it had been folded over many times so that it was tiny, probably from nerves. "Samir Soliman," Professor Mole read. One of the boys who sat at the Gryffindor table the first night grinned widely and strode to the front, towards the chamber Gellert had disappeared into. His friend, Lionel, scowled behind him.

Albus closed his eyes, then opened them. He was unreasonably tired despite it being such an important night. If this night went right, he would be even farther on the path to success.

The goblet flashed with scarlet for the last time, and a modestly sized slip of parchment shot out. Professor Mole barely caught it; it slipped through her fingers several times before it was securely in her grasp. When she unfurled it, her eyes crinkled with the trace of a smile that Albus only recognized because he had seen it so many times before.

"Albus Dumbledore."

He couldn't ignore that the applause was far louder for him than it was for Gellert or Samir, but he was sure that part of it had to do with the fact that he was the Hogwarts champion and most of the people in the Hall were Hogwarts students. He wasn't unreasonably popular, not like Cora, who was the prettiest girl in the school by common opinion and a fantastic Quidditch player too, or Ernest, the class clown, but he was Head Boy and therefore well known, at least.

But now he was the school champion and everyone would be watching him, looking up to him, pampering him, treating him like more than just an academic prodigy… he was a hero now.

He opened the door to the chamber where Gellert and Samir were waiting, and the former immediately looked up, a series of emotions passing across his face. "I should've known!"

Albus simply smiled, reaching over and shaking his hand, then turning to Samir, who shook it reluctantly.

"Oh, I expected this much, of course… but you've just made this far more difficult, you know." Gellert stared at Albus with an excited, manic look in his eyes. Albus got the impression that he wasn't actually upset at all. Perhaps giddy.

"We won't be duelling, Gellert. It's the tasks that will be difficult."

"But how will I ever manage to outshine the great Albus Dumbledore?"

Albus was infinitely grateful that the three headmasters chose this time to come in. He wasn't sure how he felt about being called great, as if he were Merlin or a founder of Hogwarts. On the one hand, he wanted to be admired, he loved it - but on the other, he wasn't great, not yet, and Gellert's praise was off-putting. Also, Samir did not look too happy about apparently being a non-issue to Gellert.

"Our three champions," Professor Mole beamed, her eyes lingering on Albus for a bit longer than the others. "Congratulations to all of you, and I wish you the best of luck." Maître Segal muttered his assent behind her, and Professor Hallberg merely gave a little nod.

"The first task tests your ability to think on your feet, so it will be kept a secret until the day of the first task - November thirteenth. The only thing I, as a teacher, can say to you about that day is 'good luck'. I hope you do not need to be reminded that cheating is forbidden, so do not ask your teachers or anyone else involved with the tournament for advice or information."

Gellert didn't speak again until after they had heard everything there was to hear and left the Hall.

"Ah - it's okay if I call you Albus, right?"

"That is fine."

He paused. "Good luck."

"And the same to you, Gellert."

Gellert was still smiling, almost automatically. In the flickering candlelight of the entrance hall, Albus was able to see how tired his eyes looked.

"Do… be careful, though," Albus said finally. "It's only a contest."

"Right," Gellert agreed.

Albus was struck by the intimacy of the moment. Of course, he knew deep down that the feeling stemmed from loneliness. He usually didn't spend his nights standing around in the dark with other boys - in fact, he was the one breaking couples up, as was the life of a Head Boy. He wasn't used to spending his time like this. Partly because he was a homosexual, but mostly because nobody, except maybe Elphias, ever spent the time getting to know him.

They bade each other goodnight, in murmurs that echoed and bounced and reached every corner of the stone hall. The paintings shifted, like a ripple of sorts, as they turned over to sleep, and Albus wondered how many secrets they knew.

* * *

 _6 October 1898_

 _Albus -_

 _I am so proud of you. I will see if I have time to go and see some of the tasks but you know it will be difficult. Whatever the outcome may be, I wish you the best of luck. Please floo me when you get the chance._

 _Faithfully, your mother_

* * *

Albus rarely saw Gellert over the following weeks, busy as he was with his N.E.W.T.-level coursework. He knew the visiting students were also attending some modified form of their classes, but was unsure how this worked considering there were students from nearly every grade level, even some who hadn't passed their O.W.L's yet - or rather, as the Beauxbatons students tended to refer to them, the BUSE's, which they took at the end of their sixth year.

Unexpectedly, Lionel had begun to hang around Albus and Elphias, apparently after terminating his friendship with Samir, as his English wasn't bad and Albus could meet him halfway when he got lost. He was the source of most of their knowledge about Beauxbatons, although Albus got the impression that he was making things up a great deal of the time. While he supposed it was possible that they might have their own rooms and house-elves, he doubted that Beauxbatons students actually had toilet paper made of unicorn hair, which Lionel claimed after an apparently unsatisfying trip to the lavatory.

"You're preparing for the first task, aren't you?" Lionel said one day, sprawled in an armchair in Gryffindor's common room, one of the few places in Hogwarts he had no problems with.

"We aren't supposed to prepare," Albus pointed out, not looking up from the runes he was translating. "It's a test of our bravery and the ability to think on our feet." No problem for a Gryffindor, said the little voice in Albus' head.

"Samir is," Lionel said.

"Really?"

"I see him in the carriage before we go to bed every night, reading spellbooks. I think he's working his way through The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 7."

"He should be working on his BUSE's," Elphias grumbled, and it was easy to see why he thought so: his N.E.W.T.-level books were bulging out of his bag, on which he had cast no fewer than 6 Reparos in the past week.

"I've already read that book, anyways," Albus said. "I'm not too worried." A second later, he wondered - _what do they think of me now? Was that too arrogant?_ And after another second, he realized - _I did just the same thing Gellert did, saying that Samir isn't a threat._

Now that he thought of him, Gellert was probably preparing too, just as much if not more. The warning that they would be unable to prepare for the first task meant nothing in the face of an ambitious young man. Judging by his behaviour before, Gellert most likely wanted to hold his own against Albus.

"I'm no great shakes at Divination anyways, I'm going to do awfully on the mock N.E.W.T next week," sighed Elphias, and stood up, grabbing his bag. "D'you wanna go down to dinner? We should eat early, since we've got Astronomy tonight."

"Oh, I do not envy you two," Lionel grinned, but followed the two of them through the portrait hole anyways, mumbling something about the common room being dull.

When they reached the staircase, a chorus of shrieks hit their ears, bouncing off the walls and echoing. Some of the paintings glanced down, leaning over each other trying to catch a glimpse of what was going on, and a herd of hippogriffs flapped their wings restlessly.

"Wonderful," Albus muttered, and gripped his wand tightly. Although he was too high up to see what was going on, he thought he had a pretty good idea. It was nearing Halloween, and Peeves was up to more tricks than ever before. Any Beauxbatons or Durmstrang student might as well have had a target on their back, and Mr Carpe, the caretaker, was constantly running after him trying to prevent damage. Just yesterday Albus had to ward Peeves away from Lionel with more than a dozen banishing spells. Each time he hit the back wall of the corridor seemed to rile him up more, and only when Carpe came storming around the corner with his wand in hand were they able to escape into the Transfiguration classroom.

Although it was more than twenty years old, everyone had heard the story of the time Carpe tried to expel Peeves from Hogwarts forever. It spread through word of mouth, father to son, and it was more elaborate every time it was told, but Albus knew there was truth to it. After all, no matter how many times Peeves acted up, he knew they would never try to get rid of him again, as it only provoked him into causing more mayhem. Nevertheless, Professor Mole had told him and Adeline during their meetings that she feared Hogwarts' reputation was on the line. There were no poltergeists at Beauxbatons and Durmstrang - as Lionel often liked to remind them.

He was curiously quiet now, though, perhaps sensing Albus' frustrations. He never talked to anybody, not even Elphias, about how pressured he felt as Head Boy, how desperately he feared failure, for if he did, it would be an admission that he could not do it. The less he complained, the better he looked, and that was what mattered most in the eyes of Hogwarts students. When they trusted him and liked him, he had an easier job.

Besides, how would Elphias or Lionel be able to help? Albus didn't want to put them down, but the facts were that they wouldn't be able to offer anything but meaningless sympathy. Only once, in his fifth year, had he asked Elphias for advice. The most he had been able to give him was, "Well, Albus, if you're really concerned, why don't you go to the headmistress? Surely she'd be able to help." He said this as if prefects were supposed to be supported by the staff, rather than the other way around.

No, it was simply a waste of time to ask for assistance.

"Peeves!" Albus shouted as soon as he was within view. He was taunting Samir and a few other Beauxbatons boys, exploding pumpkins that adorned the entrance hall and laughing every time they ducked to avoid the flying chunks of fruit. Peeves spun towards him, eyes alight.

"Ooh, our Head Boy's come to save the day! Hey, Frenchy, aren't you glad he's here to save you? Some champion you are!"

The force of two hexes hitting him at once knocked him back, and he smashed into the giant hourglass of Ravenclaw-blue sapphires. Albus' Body-Bind curse had combined with a stinging hex from Samir, and Peeves, growing giant boils, was unable to make a noise as his frozen form fell to the ground. Within seconds, though, he had broken free of the magic, and bounced back into the air.

"It'll be a cold day in hell before you put me in a Body-Bind, Dumby!" Peeves yelled, and disappeared through the ceiling.

Albus and Samir looked at each other.

"Well," Samir said, "here's hoping we don't have to fight _him_ for the first task."

Albus cracked a grin. He couldn't remember the last time he had done so.


	3. Chapter 3

The days flew by, the first task rose into view, and the excitement of the Hogwarts students was nearly tangible. Owls brought in Daily Prophet articles about the tournament more and more often, and Albus found them clipped to the doors in the Gryffindor common room, as if there were a single person in the school who was not keeping track of what was going on.

Albus piled up O's in his classes with ease, helped Elphias learn the new material, and spent his nights patrolling the corridors. Professor Mole wanted him to let Adeline and the other prefects take over, as he now had his N.E.W.T.s to study for and the tournament on the side. He rather liked walking through the corridors at night, though. It didn't feel like work, not really - in fact, it helped clear his mind more than anything, and he liked seeing Hogwarts when it was empty. When he told Professor Mole that he would prefer to continue, she smiled.

"I can't exactly make you take time off, can I? Well, I hope you're getting enough sleep, since we all want a Hogwarts victory. Not to pressure you, of course."

She wasn't the only one with the curious habit of pressuring him and subsequently telling him not to worry, but Albus was used to it. He didn't know enough about Samir or Gellert to assess how threatening they would be, but, well, he was Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, and he was about as qualified a champion as he could be. None of this he said aloud, as it would have been terribly rude, but anyone who noticed how nonchalant he was about the tournament could make an educated guess.

The first task was only a night away when Albus encountered someone he had scarcely talked to since September 1. At about eleven at night, he had stood up from his armchair in front of the fire and started up the narrow spiral staircase to the boys' dormitories, ready to retire to his room. Being a seventh year, the room he shared with Elphias and a few others was at the very top, and he passed the other years' dormitories as he walked up, usually bidding good-night to anybody who had their door open.

When he reached the fourth room, he paused. Their door was not normally open, but it was now.

A scrappy-looking boy with red hair that curled around his ears and down his neck was standing in the doorway. He had the same long and crooked nose, and his blue eyes stared up at Albus in a way that reminded him of looking into a mirror.

"Aberforth," said Albus, feeling a jolt of surprise in his heart. "I was just heading to bed. Good-night."

His face twisted into a scowl. " _Good-night_ ," he mocked. Then, apparently with nothing else to add, he turned back around and shut the door.

It was not one of their more pleasant encounters, but it was not their nastiest. One might say that the two of them had grown apart, but that would have implied that they had been close to begin with. With every job Albus was recruited for, every award he won, Aberforth grew more bitter and closed-off. Although they were in the same house, sometimes he felt they were two sides of the Gryffindor coin: Albus the chivalrous, Aberforth the reckless.

Surely Aberforth knew that the first task was tomorrow, but Albus hadn't expected words of encouragement. He doubted Aberforth would even show up. Watching his older brother perform great feats of magic in front of a cheering Hogwarts would probably rank low on his list of ways to spend a Saturday.

Elphias must have seen the wry look on Albus' face when he finally laid back in his bed in his checkered pajamas, because he asked, "All right?"

"Yes," said Albus, and wished he had never burned the curtains off his four-poster bed.

* * *

 _13 November 1898_

 _TRIWIZARD EXCITEMENT_

 _The morning of the first task of the Triwizard tournament is upon us at last, and in a display of international magical co-operation, the schools of Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, and Hogwarts have gathered at the latter in order to watch champions Samir Soliman, Gellert Grindelwald, and Albus Dumbledore compete. Their scores in this first task will factor into the ranking that determines who will get the advantage in the final task, scheduled for Sunday, June 19._

 _The Tournament has not happened in more than one hundred years, and representatives from the Ministry of Magic's Department of Magical Games and Sports have - [CONTINUED PAGE 4]_

* * *

The task was not held in the Great Hall, as an examination would be; rather, the champions were brought outside into the cold November air and led down a long, winding trail down the mountain by Mr Carpe and a representative from the Ministry. In the distance Albus could see some sort of arena that had not been there before, and people filing in from the other direction, but none of the champions were able to get a good look at it before they were ushered into a tent.

The three headmasters of the schools were sitting inside on benches, each wearing varying expressions. Professor Mole was smiling a genuine smile, and Albus wondered if it was because she was confident he would win. Segal and Samir were having some sort of back-and-forth using only their eyes, and Hallberg seemed to be refusing to look at Gellert completely.

"Welcome, champions," said the man from the Ministry once they had all sat down. "I hope you are all doing well on this fine day. I'll just be giving you a short explanation of what you'll have to do and how the judging will work.

"When you enter the arena, your goal will be to collect the object on the podium in the center and bring it to the exit. You will be facing various… obstacles that will prevent you from doing this. You are allowed to bring in a wand and nothing more in order to retrieve your object.

"Your three headmasters will be giving each of your performances a score between one through ten, giving points for speed and inventiveness and docking points if you are injured. This will determine your standing later."

The Ministry official sounded as if he was reciting a speech, and he had an odd habit of blinking far too often, which was rather distracting. Albus wondered how much of the last few minutes Samir and Gellert had absorbed, and looked around at them. Samir looked numb and immobile, while Gellert was studying his feet, kicking around at the dirt beneath them.

"To decide what order you will compete in," said the man, and blinked, "please select a marble from this bag. The champion to pick the green will go first, the yellow second, and the red last."

He held the pouch out to nobody in particular, and the boys looked at each other. Albus shrugged and reached in to feel the marbles. They were icy to the touch.

The one he pulled out was bright red. Nothing else in the tent was nearly as vibrant, with the exception of the deep red cloak Gellert had wrapped around his shoulders. He felt all eyes on him, and held up the marble a bit higher for them to see, before feeling foolish and dropping it in his pocket.

"Mr Dumbledore will go last, then," said the Ministry official.

Samir picked next, seeming to have shaken himself out of his stupor, and pulled out the green; Gellert took the remaining yellow. The Ministry man seemed satisfied.

"All right, champions," he said, and tucked the bag into his robes. "Keep your marbles with you for the task. Your headmasters will now go to the judge's seating. Mr Soliman, when you hear the whistle, please exit the tent here. Good luck."

Professor Mole gave Albus another raised-eyebrow smile as she left, and Albus felt his stomach drop suddenly. The man had never explained what the obstacles would be. This meant that going last would give him no advantage, as he had no way of working out a strategy while Samir and Gellert competed, and he would have to work it all out after his turn had begun.

In no time Samir had departed, and Albus heard an almighty cheer as the tent flaps closed behind him. Then he felt an unexpected gust of hot air fly past him, and from a look at Gellert, he wasn't the only one.

"Did you feel that?" Gellert said curiously. He was smiling at Albus, as if to say, _Isn't this all so interesting and funny?_

"I did," said Albus.

The two listened in silence for a while. Mostly they could only hear the crowd, comprised of students and family alike, scream and cheer, but once they heard something like a giant cracking.

"I wonder what that was," Gellert said. When Albus looked his way again, he added, as if encouraged, "You know, I tried to come down here last night and take a peek, although I'm sure I wasn't the only one who had that idea!"

Albus only raised his eyebrows at Gellert. He had not, in fact, had that idea, although he was sure that he could have found out where the arena was without much trouble if he had tried.

"But since I didn't find anything out…" Gellert spread his arms sheepishly. "It's not technically cheating!"

"So," said Albus slowly, "what did you see?"

"Only an empty pit made of rock," Gellert said. "But it can't just be that now."

"Would make for a dull task," Albus agreed.

The crowd yelled, and the two of them glanced at each other uncomfortably. Albus was afraid of admitting that the idea of facing the unknown was bothering him, even though he knew he would probably pull it off.

"And he's got his object!" Albus could hear someone announcing. "Congratulations, Mr Soliman, you've finished in - er - thirteen minutes and thirty-two seconds! And he made it out in one piece!"

Had it really been only thirteen minutes? Albus looked up at Gellert, who was giving him the least convincing smile he had ever seen.

"Well," he said cheerfully, "I guess I'm next, aren't I? Good luck, when you go… I hope we'll both make it!"

"Right," said Albus. "Good luck to you, too." And as Gellert departed, almost with a bounce in his step, Albus wondered how he managed to sound so cheerful while he said something so macabre.

This time, sitting alone, he paid closer attention to what the announcer was saying, and strained his ears to hear Gellert's voice. Perhaps he would be able to hear what spells he was using. However, the crowd was far too noisy, and there was a roaring sound in the background that he had not paid attention to before. If he had to guess, he would guess it was a waterfall. Could the arena be filled with water?

"Mr Grindelwald is casting spells left and right, hoping one of them will work, it seems!" said the anouncer. "And he's not having much luck, I daresay - although, what's this?"

The crowd began to cheer, but only for a few seconds.

"Oh - oh no - is he okay? That didn't look pleasant, not at all…"

Albus grimaced. He had no idea what was going on outside the tent, but if Gellert had already gotten injured within only a couple of minutes, it would be a difficult tournament for him. After all, this was only the first task.

"It seems he's okay!" said the announcer, and the audience cheered again.

From that point, it didn't take much longer for Gellert to get his object, and nothing gave him any more clues as to what he might face. So, as the announcer called his name, he knew he would be facing the unknown, same as Gellert and Samir had.

The first thing he noticed was how hot it was outside of the tent. The second was that the pit of rocks was definitely not filled with water.

The tent had opened out onto a tiny ledge, and from this he looked down at a very large basin of lava. On his opposite side was a waterfall, as he had guessed, but instead of water, a steady stream of lava was pouring down. There were no rocks in the middle, nothing to help him on his journey to the center, where his object - a bright blue shell - hovered.

Immediately, Albus began to formulate his strategy. He would need some way to get across and to the middle, something to stand on. Even if he solidified the lava, it would be too hot for him to step on, and he doubted freezing would last for more than a few seconds, even if it was a powerful freezing charm. Similarly, any rock he broke off the bottom or side would be too hot to stand on, and the one he was perched on currently was far too small and unstable for him to use. He would have to come up with another way to get across.

Standing with his mind racing, Albus realized the crowd was waiting for him to do something, so he pulled his wand out of his robes. However, at that point, he was at a loss. There was simply nothing he could think of that would work - the rock wall was probably too tightly packed for him to pull part off and transfigure it, and the lava itself would be difficult to work with. However, transfiguration was his strongest subject, so he figured he might as well try.

" _Defodio_ ," he said, and his spell hit the rock wall and ricocheted into the lava. He pressed his lips together tightly and tried a different spell. " _Expulso_." But with every spell, he realized it was magically reinforced in order to keep the audience from falling in - which made sense. It just left him with very few options.

Then he remembered that he did have one thing left: the marble in his pocket. He pulled it out and studied it. Could it be just a marble?

" _Specialis Revelio_ ," he murmured. It began to grow colder still in his hand, and he recognized the charm that had been set on it. It would cause any liquid that touched it to freeze. If he were to drop it in the lava, it would create a smooth surface for him to stand on. But Albus had a better idea.

The crowd was watching him intently, trying to figure out what he was doing, but Albus paid them no mind, He knew he only had one shot to make this work. He took a deep breath and transfigured the marble into a different, flatter shape, so that it now resembled a thin stone. Then, as he had done many times at the Black Lake, and as a child in the river near his old home, he skipped it across the lava.

Just as he had determined, the spots where the marble hit the lava began to harden and create flat discs, but they almost immediately began to sink. Before they could, Albus cried, " _Immobulus!_ "

"It seems Mr Dumbledore also figured out how to use his marble to get across!" said the announcer. "But he's done something Mr Soliman didn't… he's created a path the whole way across!"

Indeed, the parts where the marble had hit the lava did form a straight path, and thanks to Albus' spell, were not moving despite the flowing lava beneath them. If he was careful, he could jump from one to another.

"Well, here goes," he said to himself, and jumped from the ledge.

He was very grateful when he landed safely on the first chunk of frozen lava and it did not give under his - admittedly small - weight. The crowd cheered, and Albus stared down the blue seashell, now approximately the length of a Quidditch pitch away. The hard part was over, he thought. All he needed now was to make it across safely.

But it was only as he thought this that a geyser of hot lava shot up only meters from him.

He thought hard. He doubted he would be able to come up with another way to keep the lava still - the marbles seemed to have proven that - so he needed a way to be able to detect when they were coming. The only spell he knew of was the Supersensory Charm, which would allow him to see in all directions and detect things he wouldn't normally have seen. He had only cast it a few times before, and he disliked using it because seeing so much at once gave him a headache, but he figured a headache was nothing compared to third-degree burns.

Once he had cast it, he proceeded with caution across the platforms, narrowly avoiding the geysers that he was able to predict only with the help of the Supersensory Charm. There was a ringing in his ears that blocked out the sound of the crowd, and his eyes were fixed on the bright blue shell. He was having to make larger and larger jumps, but it was nothing he couldn't manage. In only a few minutes, he had taken the shell in his hands, and held it up for the crowd to see.

He reached the side again, joining Gellert and Samir on higher ground, where he was no longer in danger of burns. They each were holding an object of their own: Samir a dusty-looking coin, Gellert a blue hair-clip in the shape of a flower. When Albus approached them, they both were regarding him with expressions of awe.

Only Gellert seemed willing to say what was on his mind, though. "Albus," he said seriously, staring him dead in the eye, "that was brilliant."

Samir raised his chin silently and gave Albus a little nod.

"I mean," Gellert continued, "can you believe I hadn't even thought of using the marble? I had it with me the whole time, like they said, but I didn't even think of using it."

Albus raised his eyebrows. "So what did you do? I'm curious. I admit, I was out of ideas."

Gellert gave a short, loud laugh. "Tried a Summoning charm first, of course - "

 _Why hadn't I tried that?_ wondered Albus.

"Then I used a spell to freeze the lava and walk across, but it wasn't as strong as the magic in those marbles. The geysers were able to break through, and I got a little burnt by one." He pulled his other arm out from under his cloak, and Albus saw it was wrapped in bandages.

"But I made it!" he said hastily, covering it again.

"And so did Samir," said Albus, not wanting to exclude the Beauxbatons boy from the conversation.

Samir nodded, but instead of elaborating, he pointed up to the judges. "They are putting up your scores."

Albus swiveled his head around, and was aware of Gellert doing the same beside him. Professor Mole was beaming, and sent a 10 up high for the crowd to hear. Maître Segal and Professor Hallberg followed suit, and the two men from the Ministry gave him a 9 and a 10.

"Nearly a perfect score!" Gellert said. "Professor Hallberg gave me a 4, the - "

Whatever name Gellert was about to call his headmaster was cut off by the loud, familiar voice of a woman, coming up behind them.

"Congratulations!"

Albus and Gellert both turned again, and saw Bathilda Bagshot approaching them. Albus smiled.

"Mrs Bagshot!" he said, surprised. "How nice to see you here."

"Albus, you did wonderfully," she said. "And Gellert, dear, just fantastic."

The boys gave each other confused frowns, wondering how the other knew her. She looked between them, grinning.

"Ah. Albus, I'm Gellert's great-aunt - and Gellert, Albus is my neighbour, we both live in Godric's Hollow. It's really too bad, I hardly get to see Gellert, but I urged him to at least put his name in the cup so that he would be at Hogwarts for the year. What a stroke of luck that you both were chosen as school champion!"

Albus looked between the blonde Durmstrang boy and the older woman. The resemblance was there, but he never would have guessed it if it hadn't been pointed out to him.

"Will you be picking sides, Auntie?" Gellert asked politely, but Albus saw a competitive glimmer in his eyes. Apparently winning Mrs Bagshot's loyalty was a task of its own.

She squinted at him, smiling good-naturedly. "Now, Gellert, I would be happy if both of you were to win! I am a Hogwarts alumnus, of course, so I can't say that I'm exactly hoping for a Durmstrang victory," and at this Albus saw Gellert's face fall the slightest bit, "but family matters a great deal too, a great deal."

The mention of family sparked a memory in Albus' mind - his mother had promised to try and make at least one of the tasks. He wasn't expecting her to be here, as he knew how busy she was, but he figured it was worth an ask.

"Mrs Bagshot," he said, "would you happen to know if my mother is here today?"

Lines creased her forehead as she studied Albus. "I'm afraid I don't know," she said, and Albus could see the disapproval in her face. He knew his mother and Mrs Bagshot had gotten off on the wrong foot, but he had heard that there had been Portkeys arranged for travel, and thought that perhaps they had arrived together.

"Ah," said Albus. "Sorry to ask."

Mrs Bagshot looked up at the sky, streaked with motionless grey clouds. The shell in his hand was smooth from years of ocean waves, and he turned it over and over in his hands.

"I'm proud of you," she finally said, regarding both of them. "I can't make the feast, but I hope you boys enjoy yourselves."

They bade farewell to her and followed the trickles of students and guests back up the winding pathway, in a contemplative sort of silence. As Hogwarts grew closer and closer, Albus observed Gellert, the effects of his Supersensory Charm not yet gone. He did not walk gracefully, but there was a particular purpose with which he moved, something Albus couldn't help but admire. There were many things Albus wished to say to Gellert at that moment, but he stayed quiet, and they parted with a nod at the doors of the Great Hall.


	4. Chapter 4

Albus set to work on understanding the blue shell right away. This proved to be rather difficult, because he had nearly nothing to go on.

He knew, of course, that the shell could not be only a shell, just as the marble was not only a marble. But any number of revealing spells he tried got him no further, and the shell was beginning to look more and more ordinary.

"I don't know anything about shells," he admitted to Elphias one night, tucked into his four-poster and comparing the notes he had taken from _Crustaceans and Shellfish of the British Isles_ that day with the blue shell. "I've only been to the ocean a few times, and never as a vacation."

Elphias eyed the shell from over the robes he was holding up, then set them down gently on his chest. "Are you sure that's a seashell? I think I've seen shells like that at Loch Lomond." Elphias' family had a summer house there, where he spent his time away from Hogwarts.

"I can't be sure of anything, now can I?" Albus murmured, and passed it to his best friend.

"If only we didn't have to stay here over Christmas. I'm sure my parents would've let us go stay in their house if you wanted to go look around there."

Albus said nothing; his stomach was turning over uncomfortably. Elphias himself didn't have to stay over Christmas break, but Albus - and Gellert and Samir - had to, thanks to the Yule Ball. He suspected that this would be the most exciting part of the Triwizard Tournament for all the students who were not actually contestants. It was still only November, and every boy Albus knew was racing to ask out the most attractive girls. Of course, Albus was well aware that eventually he would have to take part in that race, despite his lack of interest in the female department.

"Thought about it at all?" Elphias asked in a soft voice as he set the shell down, and Albus knew he was referring to the ball.

"Perhaps I'll ask Adeline," he said halfheartedly. "I'm sure she would agree."

"So there aren't any girls that've caught your eye?"

He shook his head, slowly.

"Must be nice to be a genius," Elphias chuckled. "No time for girls when you're always thinking about the cure for spattergroit." He shuddered, as if even thinking about the disease was a reason for anguish.

It was quite nice to be a genius, but Albus still had his own troubles in the romance department. It turned out that falling in love was much more difficult when even telling somebody could lead to downfall and tragedy. He frowned, thinking of Gellert.

"Well, what were you going to do?" he asked, to change the subject.

Elphias smiled at his robes again, and Albus realized that they were dress robes. "I…" he mumbled. "I was thinking, maybe Aurelia…"

Albus did not try very hard to hide his amusement. "Aurelia? Aurelia Brown?"

"Do we know any other Aurelias?" Elphias shot back, but he was blushing.

"She's nice," Albus said, shrugging.

Elphias continued preparing for bed in embarrassed silence, while Albus gave the shell another curious examination. Loch Lomond… Perhaps he had been barking up the wrong tree the entire time.

* * *

 _Adeline, I would like to talk to you when you have time._

 _Regards,_

 _Albus_

* * *

"Are you quite done yet?" Lionel said, scowling at Elphias. He had ten inches of sprawling, crossed-out, underlined and annotated script in front of him, and was feverishly adding another line with a quill that had seen better days. He looked up guiltily.

"This is only my first draft," he said. Neither Albus nor Lionel asked what it was for - they were all well aware that it was his love letter for Aurelia Brown, the Gryffindor girl who was sitting on the other side of the common room, unaware of the pair of eyes on her.

"If only you spent that much time on your coursework," Albus quipped, turning back to his own completed Defense essay. Professor Merrythought had shown an uncharacteristically angry side when she realized that the amount of students in her class thinking about the upcoming ball had exceeded those focusing on the lesson.

"When she says no, can I try?" Lionel said, leaning forward on his elbows.

"Shut it, both of you."

"I've got a Head Boy meeting to go to, anyways," Albus said, putting everything into his bag. "I'll see you two later."

They waved as he headed out the portrait hole. Albus hoped they hadn't realized he had left nearly half an hour early, and hurried down the steps. Ravenclaw Tower was far away from Professor Mole's office.

When he arrived, Adeline stood outside the door with the eagle knocker, wrapped in a sweater and wearing her hair in a tight bun, as usual. Albus suddenly felt self-conscious, with his own hair uncombed.

She looked as if she was expecting the worst. He cleared his throat as he approached her.

"Hello, Adeline. You… you look very pretty."

Albus did, in fact, think she was pretty, but no more than he thought the rubies in Gryffindor's hourglass were pretty, or the blue shell still resting on his side table. He was saying it because it felt like the right thing to say, and he knew that she knew this.

"Thank you," she replied.

He paused. "Well, no point in wasting time here. Would you like to go to the Yule Ball with me?"

He suspected it would have been more difficult to say if he had actually cared about the Yule Ball, or about Adeline in a romantic fashion, but as it was, he found it hard to feign nervousness.

"Okay."

"Splendid. Shall we depart to the meeting?"

She let out a little sigh. "Okay."

It was very awkward, but he had expected no better from them. After all, he was a homosexual and she didn't seem to care very much for things like relationships or balls. It was a union of convenience, and they were both well aware of it.

When they arrived, Professor Mole didn't seem to notice anything had changed. "Ah. Mr Dumbledore, Miss Crouch. Please come in." She had already set out tea with honey for both of them, Albus' in his favorite of her teacups. It had intricately illustrated dragons chasing each other around the sides: a deep red Chinese Fireball nipped at the tail of a Yellow Dragon, which took a leap and pounced on the Fireball, in an endless cycle that Albus never tired of watching.

"The Beauxbatons students," Professor Mole began without preamble, and Albus and Adeline shared a look of disdain. Their headmistress laughed. "It's okay. They just requested winter coats, and I had a friend of mine that's skilled with fabric make a few for them with their emblem on it. Which do you prefer?"

Albus leaned in to study the two cloaks she had placed on the desk, touching the fabric with his fingers. They were not made of silk like he had observed Lionel's uniform to be, but of a sort of fur, and the differences between them were mostly just the cut and the fact that only one had a hood. Adeline sipped her tea contemplatively, eyeing them.

"I think they would like the one with a hood more," said Albus. "My friend Lionel - "

But Albus' elaboration was cut short as they heard an abrupt knocking at the door. Professor Mole looked up.

"Come in," she said.

The door was flung open, and in came Professor Hallberg, in a long night cloak, followed by Gellert Grindelwald.

"Er." Durmstrang's headmaster frowned at the scene in front of him. "I - I'm sorry to bother you, Professor Mole, but I thought you ought to know. I'm very ashamed of him. It seems Mr Grindelwald was fancying a midnight stroll in your library - more specifically, the Restricted Section - and considering he is staying here, I hope I have correctly assumed that the same rules that apply to your students would apply to him." Professor Hallberg had a sort of gleam in his eyes that Albus had never seen before.

"Well," began Professor Mole slowly. She looked as if she were quite tired of dealing with things like this. "He was in the Restricted Section, you say? Likely because he was doing research for the second task, wouldn't you think?"

Gellert looked up hopefully.

"I hardly think," she continued, "that this should be a reason to punish him - in fact, yes, perhaps we should relax the rule on the Restricted Section for our champions, as I would not like any of them to have an unfair advantage over the others. Yes, that sounds fine. I will let Maître Segal know of this change in policy in the morning. Now, if you would allow Mr Grindelwald here to resume with his research, and allow me to resume with my meeting."

Professor Mole could be intimidating when she wanted to, Albus thought, and he envied her nonchalance. She had had her desired effect; Professor Hallberg seemed angry that he had not been able to punish Gellert. Albus caught Gellert's eyes, and the Durmstrang boy grinned.

Hallberg left without another word, and after a moment, Gellert followed him back down the spiral staircase and shut the door carefully behind him. Albus looked at Professor Mole, his eyebrows raised.

"I didn't actually have much more to discuss," she admitted, and folded the Beauxbatons cloaks on her desk. "Did you want to finish your thought, Albus?"

He had almost forgotten that he had been explaining why Lionel would prefer to have a hood, but found it oddly unimportant now. "Not particularly," he admitted.

"Then you are dismissed," she said, then paused. "Although, don't let Professor Hallberg see you on the way out. I don't think he would take kindly to me releasing you two so soon."

Albus was the first to the foot of the stairs, where he looked around quickly, only to see Gellert's red cloak disappear behind a corner. He followed, Adeline staring after him in curiosity.

"Gellert!" Albus said, his voice echoing in the empty corridor. Then he stopped. He wasn't sure what exactly he had wanted to talk to Gellert about.

The blond boy spun around, his hand on his wand, but when he saw Albus standing there, he relaxed. "Albus! Fancy a walk with me?"

He smiled. "I would love to do just that." And as he fell into step with him, he got the impression that whatever they did end up talking about, the conversation would be anything but dull.

"Were you heading back to the library?" Albus asked. "I hope you're able to find your way around the castle by now."

"I was indeed," Gellert said. "I have to admit, though, that I got lucky when your Headmistress defended me like that. I hadn't been researching for the task at all."

Albus, who had not been doing much else at all in the past couple of weeks, raised his eyebrows. "Well, do tell. Whatever you were looking up must have been very interesting for you to want to be in the library at this hour."

Gellert was quiet for a moment. Then, in a casual manner, he said, "I don't suppose you've ever heard of the Deathly Hallows?"

Albus didn't say anything at first. He thought he had an idea of where Gellert might have been heading, but he certainly hadn't been expecting it from him. "You mean, the Tale of the Three Brothers, then," he said.

He had heard of the rumors in his reading: that it wasn't just a children's story; that the three clever Peverell brothers had created an unbeatable wand, an enchanted stone, and a cloak of invisibility; that somewhere out there, the three artifacts still existed, and uniting them would make a wizard the master of Death. But until now, he had never attempted to search for them, believing that they were likely lost to the ages. Besides, he had heard about the Hallows fanatics, who dedicated their lives to the search. He didn't want to become one of them.

"You know, don't you?" Gellert said softly. "You're an awful liar, Albus."

How Gellert could tell, Albus didn't know. He was used to lying, and had never had somebody call him out like that. If Elphias or Lionel had their suspicions, they didn't say so. But Gellert was bold, and wasn't afraid of Albus.

It was different.

"I'd heard," he said. "But I didn't take you as the type."

"Hogwarts has more books on the topic," Gellert said smoothly. "Ones in English. And I'm interested in the topic."

"Are you looking for them?"

With that one question, Albus realized that from that point, there was no going back. Gellert was in it for the long run; he was one of the few who desired to become the Master of Death, and Albus could see the excitement in his eyes.

"Will you help me?"

It was stupid, it was impulsive, but Gellert knew something that Albus did not, and suddenly he wanted to know, too, wanted to be in on the secret. So, excitement rising in his chest and a curious, prickly feeling spreading through his cheeks, he followed Gellert back to the library, where he led him to a private, cozy nook in the back of the Restricted Section.

Again, Albus was not used to intimacy, but here was Gellert, inviting him to join him on the dark purple cushions, with the only light coming from a flickering candle and from the moon outside. Gellert raised his eyebrows at Albus, patting the spot next to him.

"Well?"

Albus sat, and Gellert raised his wand. Three volumes came flying towards them, landing neatly next to Gellert. He picked the first up: _Deathstick - A History of Europe's Bloodiest Wand_.

"The Elder Wand," Albus whispered, and felt his stomach leap.

"Yes," Gellert agreed. "Oh, the things I would do with it…"

The wand had never been something Albus had sought. This book was proof that owning it placed a giant, glowing target on a wizard's back, and he had heard a million times that the wand was only as good as the wizard that held it.

Gellert thought otherwise. He began to speak, and Albus began to listen.


	5. Chapter 5

It was not the first time Albus had found himself spending every free moment in the library, but it was the most he had ever enjoyed himself doing it. Each day he would hurry there after his last class, without even stopping at Gryffindor Tower, and Gellert would look up at him expectantly as he appeared around the last bookcase in the Restricted Section. Identical smiles would curl across their faces, and Gellert would hold up the book he had been reading, and Albus would drink in every word he said as if it was the antidote to a lethal poison he had been exposed to all day.

It was no longer just about the Hallows: Gellert had plans, big plans, and the Hallows were only the soil in which they grew. He didn't explain them all at once, but dropped hints every so often, little puzzle pieces for Albus to put together himself.

But oh, it was hard enough for Albus to even figure out what was going on in his own head. Gellert and his smile and his fingers flipping through books, gesturing everywhere, danced through his mind all day. His professors were becoming more and more impatient by the fact that Albus was underachieving in his classes, but there was nothing he could do now. Higher-level magic took an absurd level of self-control, and Albus simply was not there.

He abandoned his prefect duties, he cancelled tutoring with younger students, and the pangs of guilt he felt disappeared when he united with Gellert every evening. It continued in this way until term ended, and Professor Merrythought had patted him on the back awkwardly and wished him a good Christmas break. He knew this was code for, "Please try to relax and then come back how you used to be." Elphias, who was also in Defense (and happened to be outperforming him), insisted that Albus come back to the common room for once and catch up. All he had really told Albus was that Aurelia Brown had agreed to be his date to the Yule Ball, but how exactly that had happened had never been explained in full.

There, Lionel brought out a bottle of firewhisky, sarcastically toasting the rebirth of Albus. Elphias recounted the way he had dropped his love letter into Aurelia's bag, but Summoned it back when he lost his nerve, and was subsequently accused of stealing by Matilda Moody.

"Oh!" Lionel said loudly, apparently remembering something, but Albus shushed him, letting Elphias continue with his story. Elphias blushed - or maybe it was the firewhisky - and thanked him.

"Of course, Matilda came over to me in the entrance hall with her wand out, demanding that I give Aurelia her stuff back. I had no choice but to show her the love letter."

"Quite a humiliating affair," Albus agreed, sipping from his glass.

"You didn't even read the letter," Elphias muttered. "It was mawkish. But she loved it, of course. Guess that is the type of thing girls like."

"I wouldn't go forth using that as a guideline," Albus said, thinking of Aurelia Brown, who was a romantic type of girl.

"Yeah," Lionel said, and shuddered. "I suppose you want to hear about who I'm taking, too, right?"

"When did this happen?" Elphias asked curiously, leaning forwards in his armchair. "You haven't been holding onto this just to tell Albus, have you?"

"Just today," Lionel said. "And I'm glad I didn't take any advice from you. I asked Matilda Moody."

"You _what_?" Elphias hissed. "Blimey, Lionel, she's scary."

"Maybe if you're afraid of women," Lionel retorted, but looked proud of himself nonetheless. "She said she had been eyeing me across the common room all of term, so thanks for letting me in so much. I knew something good would come out of it one of these days."

"Oh, yes, you simply detest our company, Lionel," joked Elphias, and they all laughed, but Albus didn't miss the fact that Lionel's eyes were glued to the girl with straw-brown hair that had just appeared through the portrait hole.

"So, what about you, Albus?" Elphias said. "You've been in that library for so long. You must have figured something out about that shell, right?"

How would he be able to explain that he hadn't picked up a single book that could have given him information on the second task? It would only lead to the next question, which would have involved what exactly he had been doing in that library, if not preparing for the task. But he hesitated to lie. He remembered Gellert telling him that he was an awful liar.

"I've had too much firewhisky to talk about that," Albus deflected, and poured more into his glass. "Tell me, are you going to invite Aurelia to Hogsmeade for New Years?"

There was nothing more distracting for a boy than the object of their affections, Albus had found. He used this tactic against Elphias with success, but he couldn't help but realize that now he was just as vulnerable as his dear smitten best friend.

* * *

 _ **Catherine Goodwyn**_

 _1453_

 _Exceptional Duelling Mastery Award_

 _This plaque is awarded to Catherine Goodwyn, the winner of Hogwarts Duelling tournaments for five consecutive years._

* * *

Wracked with guilt, Albus spent his newly freed mornings working on the shell again. This time, he took Elphias' advice into consideration, and began to focus on Loch Lomond in specific. However, nothing he read struck a chord with him. It was on the fourth day, a few nights before Christmas, that he had his real breakthrough.

In his experiences, he had often found that the most success came from the least expected places. So when Albus spoke to the shell, he shouldn't have been so surprised that it spoke back.

"What are you?" Albus asked it, weary and far too exhausted at three in the afternoon than he had any business being. "What do you have for me?"

"Perhaps you should start by asking who I am," it whispered, and he looked at it in disbelief.

"Who you are?" But it was quiet again, and he took a moment to think.

Whatever the shell was, it was sentient - or perhaps it was not a shell at all. Staring at it more would not do much for him, as it was unlikely to strike up a conversation by itself.

"Hello," he said carefully. "I am Albus Dumbledore. I'm delighted to make your acquaintance. What is your name?"

"I suppose I should have been more specific, Albus," said the shell. "You must find out who I am in order for me to reveal the information you need."

"May I ask you questions?" he said, dearly hoping the answer would be yes.

"You may," it responded. "But you must figure out my identity yourself."

"So you are a real person? Or - _were_ a real person?"

"Yes. I was asked to possess this shell. I understand it is a task for your Triwizard Tournament."

Albus had heard of such an enchantment before; it was similar to the one given to the paintings and portraits in Hogwarts. "You know about the Triwizard Tournament?"

"Of course, I had heard of it, but my time was past it."

"When are you from?"

"More than thirty years before now."

How simple it could have been if he had started this way! Albus talked and talked to the shell for what felt like hours. He had no guesses as far as whose memory was contained in the shell, but he was confident that he would be able to learn who it was with enough research. After all, Professor Mole would not have set an impossible task for him.

He had just wondered how the other champions had been getting along when one of them approached him. He turned - it was Gellert, of course. Albus realized that the time he usually quit working on his clue and joined Gellert to talk had passed, and he had probably been wondering where he was.

"Albus? I heard your voice…" Gellert looked at him curiously.

"Sometimes a good conversation with myself can be surprisingly productive," Albus said calmly, despite the feeling of his heartbeat speeding up. "I hope that you feel the same. Sorry about missing our usual time."

"No matter," said Gellert as Albus put his shell deep into his robe pocket and sent his books flying back to their shelves. "I was hoping we could do something different today."

"Different," Albus repeated.

"Your tour from the beginning of the year was rather lacking," Gellert said. "I was hoping you could give me a better one."

"A full tour of Hogwarts," Albus mused, already leading Gellert out of the library. "A daunting task, I will say. There's a lot to this school that even I don't know. However, since you asked…"

Gellert grinned beside him. "Show me everything you know."

Albus did his best not to let emotion pass over his face at this sentence. Gellert really had a way with words.

Keeping to his promise, Albus showed Gellert the upper stories of Hogwarts, letting him see inside the Gryffindor common room and the prefects' bathroom, which would have been off limits on an official tour. Gellert whistled when he saw the swimming pool-like bathtub, with its multitude of faucets. "Much nicer than they have at Durmstrang," he said. "Unless you like cold showers."

On their way down the stairs into the entrance hall, Albus noticed Mr Carpe and a few other professors levitating giant trees through the doors.

"And what is this?" Gellert said, playing the part of a guest. "Some sort of ceremony? A ritual? Does Hogwarts also have a thriving Christmas-tree industry?"

"I suppose we could, if we wanted to," Albus said thoughtfully. "We definitely have enough trees."

They continued through the hall, Albus waving to the teachers he knew and identifying them to Gellert. Gellert nodded but said nothing until they were outside where nobody could hear them. Then he said, all at once, "So who are you taking to the Yule Ball?"

Albus was startled. He had almost forgotten that anybody still cared about who was going with who. "Adeline Crouch. She was the one with me in Professor Mole's office." Then, because he couldn't figure out why Gellert was asking, said, "What about you?"

"You - I'm taking a girl from Slytherin house. Medea Prince. Are you close with this Adeline?"

Albus squinted out over the grounds, watching the Black Lake glitter in the distance. "I suppose so. We're similar people. I've known her for a long time, but I wouldn't call us close."

The Hufflepuff Quidditch team was walking back from their practice at a leisurely pace, and Albus absently tried to pick out the people he knew before he was aware of Gellert's silence beside him. He looked at him, and saw the same fiercely competitive look in his eyes as when he had been talking to Mrs Bagshot, and suddenly everything made _sense_.

Albus did not know how to approach a situation such as this, one where he had feelings for someone, and he knew that same someone had feelings for him. However, he had always been the type of person who knew the right thing to say, so he said it.

"I think that, after all the time we've spent together, I feel closer to you than I do to Adeline," he admitted quietly.

Gellert exhaled, slowly, like one might do at the end of a long day. But his posture straightened, and he turned to Albus as if he had finally woken up.

"Then let's continue," Gellert said firmly. "I can only see us getting closer."

The confident manner in which he said this made Albus smile. Gellert was the type who got ideas in his head and was unable to let go, and so was Albus. But it really was his perseverance that Albus most admired, because never had he met somebody so similar to him. And for that reason, Albus found himself nodding: what he had said was true. Wherever the tournament would lead him, it would not be without Gellert.


	6. Chapter 6

Albus had never seen the students of Hogwarts in such disarray. He had only stayed at Hogwarts over Christmas Break once, in his fifth year in order to better study for his O.W.L's, and he had seen less than ten students the entire fortnight. The state of the castle on Christmas Day was a stark contrast, as nearly everybody had stayed in order to go to the Yule Ball. Girls walked around in large groups, disappearing to their dormitories as the day grew late, and Albus caught sight of a few boys sitting by themselves in the Great Hall, their heads in their hands and looking as if they would be sick.

He and Gellert sat at the far end of the Gryffindor table, trying not to eat too many crumpets before the feast they would have that night. Albus had been telling tales of Hogwarts from his previous years, back when he had been able to observe everything that happened without feeling obligated to get involved. Neither had changed into their dress robes, although the sun was beginning to set. They were eventually forced to move when Mr Carpe came in to move the tables in order to make room to dance.

They knew that they ought to part ways and get ready, but Albus could sense a certain reluctance in Gellert. He hovered by Albus' side, shifting from foot to foot. "What do you think they're going to have at the feast?" he said, and Albus could tell he was only making small talk in order to stall.

"I… I don't know," Albus said. "Gellert… are you okay? You look anxious."

"I'm not looking forward to the ball," he said immediately. "I'm not cut out for things like this."

The blond boy looked so pale and jittery that Albus knew at once that he was being serious, but he wasn't sure how to help. In fact, he himself felt the same way, but simply chose to disregard it instead of worrying. It was just another thing that set him apart from his peers. He only wondered if Gellert's reason was the same as his - but he had his suspicions, and his suspicions were usually right.

This was the part where he was supposed to know the right thing to say, give some thoughtful advice and send him on his way. But Albus could only think of the truth, and the truth was that if Gellert was homosexual, he just had to hide it and move on. Even if it weren't four hours before the Yule Ball and Gellert didn't already have a date, he wouldn't have had a better plan for him.

"It'll be over in a few hours," Albus said. "Sit next to me at dinner and you can talk to me and Adeline."

Gellert looked doubtful. He had probably expected something more inspiring. _He has such high expectations of me,_ Albus thought glumly.

"All right," Gellert said, and finally stepped away from Albus, towards the doors of the entrance hall. "I guess we should both get ready, then."

"I'll see you later," said Albus, giving a thin-lipped smile, but Gellert had already turned around.

* * *

 _25 December 1898_

 _Albus,_

 _As I'm sure you were wondering, I arrived home safely for the holidays. Mum and Ariana say hello and they miss you and hope you have had a good Christmas. I was writing to wonder if you could send Zosimos (or one of the school owls) home with my Charms textbook, which unfortunately I left in my dorm. Hopefully this isn't too much trouble for you. Mum is standing over my shoulder now and requesting that I ask who you are taking to the ball, so I suppose send your answer with the textbook if you don't want to keep her up at night._

 _Aberforth_

 _P.S. Happy Christmas._

* * *

Gellert was late.

Adeline, who was standing beside Albus and looking stunning in layered robes of a pale yellow, silky material, was quiet, choosing to observe the others in their corner of the entrance hall rather than engage in conversation. The champions were to enter the Great Hall after everybody else, so Albus, Samir, and their partners were standing out of the way. Girls were complimenting each other on their dress robes and hair, chattering excitedly, and Albus spotted Elphias and Aurelia smiling at each other from the top of the staircase. Samir and his date, a golden-haired Hufflepuff called Cora, were comparing the classes Beauxbatons and Hogwarts offered.

"Gellert?"

Albus turned to see who had spoken, and saw a girl with short black hair wearing shimmering silver dress robes approaching the group. She had dark eyes and, perhaps only because she was squinting, an accusatory look.

"He's not here yet," said Albus.

"He's not?" she repeated warily. "But it's about to start."

Albus shrugged. So this was the girl Gellert had chosen to ask? Medea Prince, he had said. She must have been a younger student, as he didn't recognize her, and she had a look about her that was not easily forgotten.

It was only when Albus had begun to fear they would have to begin the feast without him that Gellert appeared in the doorway of the castle, a light silhouette against the dark sky outside. Instead of his usual uniform, a tunic with a red cloak, he wore simple dark grey dress robes, far less attention-grabbing than most of the outfits in the room.

Spotting Albus, he gave a small nod to show his acknowledgement and made his way over. "Why are you so late?" Medea asked.

"Never mind that," said Professor Mole, hurrying towards them. "Albus, you and Adeline will be in the front for the first dance, Mr Soliman and Miss Chancey next, and then Mr Grindelwald and Miss Prince." The others nodded to show their understanding, and Professor Mole seemed satisfied.

Dinner, sitting at the table usually reserved for teachers, was delicious but quiet. Albus had invited Gellert to sit next to him, but it turned out to be in vain, as he and Adeline didn't have much to talk about. Cora and Samir tried several times to engage everybody in conversation, but past Albus' polite attempts at small talk, the table didn't seem to be in a social mood.

"This dinner is taking years off my life," Gellert muttered, and Albus smiled down at his potatoes.

Within only moments of dessert appearing on the table, Professor Mole approached Albus and beckoned him aside. Confused, he got up and followed her a small distance away.

"You know how to dance, right, Albus?" she said. Albus wondered what she was planning to do if he said no.

"Of course," he replied.

"When did you learn?" Professor Mole asked, and Albus suddenly understood. With his father being in prison - which everybody knew, but chose to ignore - and his mother being Muggleborn, he hardly had experienced a typical wizarding childhood. Adeline, on the other hand, was from a more powerful pureblood family, and she likely hadn't had trouble finding the money for lessons. He imagined it had only just occurred to the headmistress that he was anything but pureblood. Perhaps it was easy to forget.

"Before the summer started, in preparation for this," he answered shortly, and returned to the table. What she didn't need to know was that he had pored over a book for two days before asking Mrs Bagshot if he could practice with her. The older lady was delighted to help Albus, wanting him to be as fit for the Tournament as possible, but she had the tendency to get overexcited and begin improvising.

Annoyed that he had missed part of dessert, which was always his favorite part of any meal, to partake in such a ridiculous conversation, Albus tried to pretend nothing had happened. Adeline raised her eyebrows at him when he reached for a third slice of lemon pie.

Finally after all the food and plates had disappeared, they heard the introduction of the polonaise. Albus and Adeline quickly got into position. In all of his years of knowing her, it was the first time Albus had ever touched Adeline, but neither of them had time to reflect on this before Albus began to lead her into the middle of the Great Hall.

Between the constant movement and the sheer amount of people, picking out Elphias or Lionel from the crowd was impossible, so Albus resigned himself to his dancing. After the first song had finished, the students and staff joined in, and by the time they had danced the two-step, the waltz, and the German, Albus' feet were aching.

"You know," said Adeline suddenly as they helped themselves to gillywater, "you're not a bad dancer."

Albus raised his eyebrows.

"I heard your conversation," she admitted. "And I'm only saying because Professor Mole seemed to have the impression you were going to muck it up somehow."

"Well, I hope I wasn't too much of a disappointment to her," he said thoughtfully. "In general, I do try to make a habit of preparing for these things ahead of time. But even so, would it really have been the worst thing in the world if I had been awful? At least it would have been more entertaining, and certainly more memorable. When all is said and done, it's only a ball."

"Cheers to that," Adeline said, and Albus smiled.

They glanced out among the sea of students and staff, and Albus could tell at once that not everybody had taken lessons or even had help from an elderly neighbour, although they certainly seemed to be trying. Even so, it truly didn't bother him. In a way the Triwizard Tournament was all about coming together and accepting their differences.

"Adeline," Albus said, struck with an idea, "would you like to dance?"

She frowned. "But we just finished."

"Maybe we could do something fun."

It was then that Albus felt a presence above him, and he looked up to see Gellert looking at him curiously, a drink in his own hand. "Did I hear that you wanted to do something fun, Albus?"

"I was thinking that this was the perfect song for a polka," he said lightly. The orchestra had just begun a slow waltz, and it seemed that many of the dancers had chosen this one to sit out. Adeline let an amused smile creep across her face, and Gellert positively beamed.

"Well, Mister Dumbledore," he said playfully, holding out his hand, "may I have this dance? Miss Crouch, I hope you don't mind me stealing him away."

Albus paused, but only for a moment. Adeline looked wryly at both of them, perhaps wondering what exactly was going on. "Be my guest."

They got up, Albus in lavender and Gellert in grey, and made their way through the tables. Then, with a smile, Gellert put Albus' right hand on his back and took his left, and they set off, spinning between the couples that were slowly waltzing. Albus was having too difficult a time keeping up with Gellert's pace to notice the fact that Lionel, who had brought a bottle of his own firewhisky and was sharing it with Matilda Moody, was openly gaping at them. How they didn't manage to bump into anybody, Albus didn't know, but despite the fact that they stumbled more than once and they had both lost their breath by the end, it was Albus' favorite dance of the night.

When the song had ended, Gellert let go of him and they found a spot at the other side of the Hall. Albus was completely winded, but tried not to show it too much.

Gellert's grin was contagious. "You're right, Albus, that was fun."

"I daresay Professor Mole won't be happy," he murmured.

"Huh?"

"Never mind."

"All right, that was enough dancing for the night." Gellert leaned in close, his eyes gleaming. "I have something to show you."

Once in the quiet corridors, Albus unclasped the outer layer of his robes, feeling abnormally warm for a night in December. "Glad we got away when we did," he said heavily. "Think they'll notice that two of the three champions have gone missing?"

"Not at all," Gellert said, running a hand through his hair.

"Whatever happened to your date?"

"Oh, she told me she was fine to talk to her friends," Gellert said, shrugging.

"Ah." Albus didn't know Medea well enough to tell whether she had meant that or if she was only just saying it, but he hoped her friends would provide enough entertainment for the rest of the night.

They switched staircases once, then again. The sound of the stone moving echoed eerily in the silence. When Gellert decisively headed into a dark and narrow hall Albus had never been down more than once or twice, he finally spoke up. "Where exactly are we going?"

"You'll see," Gellert said in a sing-song voice. "I promise it's worth it, okay? No tricks here."

The hall was one filled with empty classrooms, both for lectures and for practicals. None had been used in years, unless Albus counted the time that he had been forced to break up a couple of Hufflepuffs that habitually snuck in. He dearly hoped that he wouldn't face the same fate.

"Here it is," Gellert whispered, pushing open a door that looked no different than the rest. It was a classroom intended for lectures, with empty desks in twin columns that led all the way to a tall, ornate mirror.

"Is it the mirror?" Albus asked, and Gellert nodded.

"Go look in."

Albus approached his reflection. He looked the same as always - auburn hair that had grown a bit too long, thin-framed glasses, and Gellert next to him.

No.

He turned around, and Gellert was still at the back of the classroom, watching him expectantly. Then he turned back and looked more closely.

In the mirror, Gellert had in his hands the Triwizard cup, and Albus' robes - his school ones, not the lavender ones he had on - was bare of his Head Boy badge. He blinked uncertainly, and the mirror Gellert looked over and smiled at him.

"This," Albus said slowly, but with a tone of wonder, "this shows what I want my life to be, doesn't it?"

"What do you see?"

In that moment, Albus felt transparent - almost as if Gellert had known from the start that Albus would see him in his reflection. "You're there," he said. "You're holding the cup."

"The Triwizard cup!" Gellert said, surprised. "Your deepest desire is for me to win?"

"Not that, exactly," Albus mused. "I think it's trying to say something else."

Gellert leaned against a desk in the back. "Ah, I get it. Your deepest desire is not to win."

If Albus had been asked a week ago what he wanted more than anything in the world, he would not have said that he wanted to lose the Triwizard Tournament or be stripped of his Head Boy status. But somehow, that wasn't what the mirror was implying. Instead, it suggested an alternate reality, where Albus never had to deal with those pressures.

"I want to change the world, Gellert," Albus said, turning away from the mirror. "But I want to do it as me, not as Head Boy or as Triwizard champion or any of it. At least, not yet. It all seemed so great when I decided to do it all - but I didn't really decide, did I? I just never objected, and now here I am." He chuckled. "Trying to figure out this shell clue and not fail all of my classes at the same time."

"Oh," was all Gellert said. Albus looked down, almost guiltily, for spilling all of this out, forcing it on him, but then he said, "Oh, dear, Albus, I think you're very stressed."

"What do you see?" Albus asked, as Gellert approached.

He raised his eyebrows. "Why, I'm holding the wand and the stone, and the cloak is in my pocket. Oh, and you're there, of course."

"Me."

"How curious," he said, smiling, "that we both see each other in the mirror that shows us what we want the most."

Here was the part Albus was most reluctant to talk about, for Gellert's appearance in the mirror was not a coincidence. There was a reason it was him and not Samir. After all, Albus was facing one more pressure he had never mentioned to anybody, although he was well aware of it himself. It was the simple fact that he could never see himself with a girl.

"We do," said Albus, "but it's in different ways."

"How do you mean?"

"Forgive me if I'm wrong," Albus said, "but, like the other things in the mirror, I believe I see you as a relief from a certain pressure. The pressure of having to find a girl."

"I see," said Gellert.

"And," Albus continued, drawing a deep breath, "like the other things you saw, I represented… something you seek. Something you desire."

"A very astute - and forward - theory, Albus," Gellert said. "And it may have a grain of truth to it. But I don't quite see you as an object. You're much more than that, and I'm sure you know that. It was more of... a vision of the future. I want to change the world too. And separately we are strong, but together we are stronger.

"But that can wait. I know now that's not what you need. So I'd be willing to… how did you say it? Help you relieve that certain pressure."

Albus stared at Gellert. It was one thing having him hint at it, but hearing him say it in such blatant language… at least, as blatant as he could get. Albus doubted either of them had ever been so upfront with their romantic intentions.

"Gellert, I…" Albus paused, shut his mouth. "Can we?"

They both knew what was at stake. But to the two most daring boys in Hogwarts, turning back now would be impossible.

"Don't ask me; I won't say anything but yes." Gellert had a mischievous grin on, but the fondness in his eyes shone through. "Oh, and Albus?"

"Yes?"

"I've been meaning to tell you all night. You look absolutely handsome in those robes."


	7. Chapter 7

Life didn't magically improve for Albus after he told Gellert his true feelings. Classes started again, the second task was still scheduled for February the nineteenth, and to the rest of the world, there wasn't a queer bone in his body.

On the bright side, Albus finally knew the identity of the shell's owner, and consequently what the second task was going to be. One of the first things he asked was whether the shell was really from Loch Lomond, which it was. After a great deal of interrogation, enough to narrow down where he should look, he read in a book on local legends the true tale of a girl called Mirabella Plunkett.

"You really transfigured yourself into a fish to be with a merman?" asked Albus, amused.

"It was an act of love," said the shell - or rather, her memory - defensively.

"But what happened next? How did the coordinators of the Tournament manage to retrieve your memory if you were just any other fish?"

"Haddocks don't live that long," she said. "I lived in Loch Lomond for as long as I could, and when my fish form died I transfigured back."

"But that couldn't have been too long ago," Albus exclaimed, looking down at the book. "Are you still alive, then?"

"This may come as a surprise to you, but I can't actually swim. As a human, I mean. I nearly drowned. Some people saw me and managed to pull me ashore, but I didn't make it."

"I'm sorry to hear that," he said, taken aback.

"No, it's quite all right. I lived my life to the fullest. I have no regrets. Now I only want to help you."

"Ah, you mean the second task." Albus leaned back in his bed, setting the book on his bedside table gently. "You'll reveal that now, then?"

"The task will be in February, as you know, Albus," said the shell. "This stage of the tournament will not have the champions go one after another. You will all be in a triangular arena of sorts, one champion in each corner, and the three of you will engage in a type of battle I imagine you're familiar with."

"We have to fight the other champions in the second task?" Albus said, horrified at the idea of having to shoot curses at Gellert. He wondered if the other boy already knew.

"Not in the way you're imagining," she said. "The task will be in February, so snow will still be on the ground."

A moment passed. Then Albus said slowly, "The second task is a _snowball_ fight?"

"Precisely!" said the shell, sounding pleased. "You're allowed a wand, only a wand, and you can cast whatever legal magic you wish in order to protect yourself and hit the other two champions. Oh, and don't forget to bundle up!"

"Of course," he said, feeling a strange rush of gratitude. "Thank you, Mirabella. I… I'll repay you one day. You've been great company. You won't disappear now, will you?"

"As long as you keep me, nothing will happen with the spell used to replicate my thoughts," said the shell. Albus smiled.

"Maybe I'll keep you, then," he said. "It is nice to have a sounding board for ideas. I'd better get working on my strategy, although I suppose I do have more than a month. I'll need a good piece of magic that will create snowballs for me. Actually, a few good pieces of magic."

"Good luck, Albus," said the shell. "I was never a great witch myself, but I'd love to listen to your ideas if you'd like."

"Albus? You in there?" Elphias' voice came from the other side of the door, cautiously. He put the shell down and sighed.

"Yes, come in."

Elphias, Lionel, and to Albus' surprise, Matilda Moody, appeared around the corner. "Sorry," said Elphias. "We weren't sure - "

"We heard a girl's voice, Albus, and we didn't want to walk in on you if you were having a moment," Lionel said bluntly, breezing past his bed to sit on Elphias' trunk. Matilda Moody was looking around with interest.

"So this is what the boys' dorm is like," she said. "Less messy than ours, for sure. What happened to Albus' curtains?"

Elphias chuckled. "He decided he didn't like them a few years ago, so he set them on fire."

"Excuse me, Elphias, that incident was an accident," Albus said calmly. "However, I will concede that not putting them out was on purpose." Lionel snorted, while Elphias rolled his eyes. "Anyways, the reason you heard a girl's voice was because I finally figured out what the second task is."

"Sounds like a load of dragon dung, but I'll take your word for it," said Lionel. "Congrats."

"Has Samir gotten it yet, Lionel?" asked Elphias.

"Not sure. We don't talk to each other anymore. Or see each other, really." Lionel seemed unconcerned with the fact that their relationship had more or less ended completely, and Albus wondered if they had ever been real friends at all.

Then he wondered the same about their own friendship. Would he and Lionel write each other when their school days were over? They certainly spent a lot of time together, but talking about food, classes, and girls - a subject Albus tired of easily - didn't seem to form the type of friendship that he held with, well, somebody like Gellert.

It occurred to him that perhaps Lionel was the type of person who sought out whoever seemed the most powerful. First it was Samir, who was the Beauxbatons student most worthy of being champion, and then after Albus became champion it was him, the multilingual Head Boy who had already gained a name for himself. Now Lionel was spending time with Matilda Moody, who was an accomplished duellist and had won her fair share of official and unofficial duels.

It was something to consider, for sure, but Albus was used to it, as many people were interested in him only for his power and connections. There were only a few people he could be confident liked him for himself.

One was Elphias. They had been friends from their very first year, before Albus was anybody but himself. That year, and the few following it, had been carefree, and their secrets had been few and far between. They helped each other with their coursework, raced the worst school brooms around the highest towers, and experimented with basic alchemy in the Potions labs. Everything had changed since then - Albus had changed - but their friendship remained steady, and they had the unspoken agreement that no matter what, they would be there for each other.

Another was Gellert. Albus could tell he had been initially attracted by his reputation, and Gellert had desperately wanted to impress him. But once Albus had given him a chance, it had blossomed into something completely different. What they had now - whatever they wanted to call it, which neither of them were sure about - wasn't about Albus and his fame, nor was it about Gellert and his ambition. Although they were still competing against each other in the Tournament, Albus truly considered him a partner.

The last was his mother, but wasn't it a mother's job to love her children for who they were? Regardless, Albus was aware that he was lucky, and despite the fact that she had not made concrete plans to come to any of the Tournament, he knew it was only because she was busy taking care of his sister. It didn't change anything about their relationship, but he knew it was going to be much more difficult to find time to see her once the rest of his life had begun.

It was telling that despite their friendship, Elphias had yet to ask about Gellert. Lionel definitely would have told him what he had seen during the Yule Ball; Albus was sure of this from his reaction. Perhaps it was because they were that close that Elphias could tell it wasn't just a silly polka, and perhaps it was because their friendship was so strong that Elphias didn't make him talk about it until he wanted to. Albus didn't know if he would ever be ready, but everything seemed to be changing now, so who knew?

"Hey, Albus," said Elphias softly. "Wanna go down to the common room and play Gobstones? I got a new set for Christmas, if you wanna break it in with me."

Giving only a passing glance to Matilda and Lionel, who were deep in conversation, he found himself nodding at the smaller boy. The two headed carefully down the narrow spiral staircase, and Albus was content to enjoy a familiar game with his oldest friend, at least for the time being.

* * *

 _Albus,_

 _I really do hate to be writing this letter, but at this point it's become inevitable. Professor Mole has asked me about the Yule Ball every time I have seen her. I fear her curiosity will never be sated until she receives an explanation from you, as I have nothing to offer. Would you be willing to humor her and talk to her in the near future?_

 _Many thanks,_

 _Adeline_

* * *

Outside the castle, below the West tower, was where Albus waited, wrapped in a scarf made of white fur and his thickest winter robes. The winter sun did a poor job of warming him, and he positioned himself away from the wind, his shoulder-length hair tickling the side of his face uncomfortably. It was not difficult to see Gellert coming - he was in his usual red cloak and was waving at Albus cheerfully. A smile passed over his face instinctively, waving back at the boy.

"I guess we're both a little early, aren't we?" remarked Gellert when he approached. Indeed, according to Albus' watch - which, instead of numbers, had twelve sparkling astrological symbols circling the face - both of them had arrived about five minutes before three. "Did your talk with Professor Mole run shorter than you had expected?"

Albus frowned. "It was, quite frankly, odd. I thought for sure that she was going to be disappointed in me, but she only seemed interested in hearing about our… friendship." At this, Gellert gave a soft "hah," but let him continue. "I didn't tell her anything important, obviously. I said that we were 'quite similar'. I suppose it could have gone a lot worse."

Looking contemplative, Gellert said, "I wonder why two of the champions forming a friendship would be considered so abnormal. Perhaps in previous years, there was too much competition for it to be a realistic option."

"Maybe," said Albus, who was feeling remarkably unambitious at the moment. Figuring out the shell clue had taken some of the urgency off the upcoming second task. "Want to get out of the cold now?"

"Desperately," Gellert deadpanned, and the two of them followed Gellert's footsteps through the snow back towards the gigantic Durmstrang ship docked in the Black Lake.

The other day Gellert had suggested showing Albus where he lived and did most of his work. After being assured he wouldn't get kicked off by Professor Hallberg, he agreed. The narrow pier next to it put the ship into perspective, but Albus was still impressed by the size of it up close. The two of them stepped onto the deck, which was currently empty due to the icy winds blowing across the lake, and Gellert showed Albus over to a staircase that led down into the living quarters.

It reminded Albus of Hogwarts only in that it had no order to it - the rooms were laid out in a maze-like fashion, one that must have gotten many students lost. It appeared that every visiting student had their own room, as only about twenty had decided to come for the year. The very bottom level was merely used for storage, while the second lowest had narrow, cluttered classrooms dispersed around. These, too, were empty due to it being a weekend.

"It's more like monitored independent study," Gellert said, peeking into a classroom that had desks arranged in small clusters. "Since there's students from every year here, we don't try to have a lesson that will fit everyone."

There was also a kitchen, but according to Gellert, nobody made food unless it was very late at night, when they weren't supposed to leave the ship. "Why would you? Hogwarts food is much better," he pointed out.

Professor Hallberg's room, which took up a significant amount of space, was strictly off-limits. "He seems cheerful," Gellert said ominously, "until you knock on his door on a Saturday morning." Albus couldn't help but think that anything involving Gellert put Hallberg into a bad mood, but decided not to mention this.

Many of the visiting Durmstrang students were relaxing in their rooms with the doors open, and as they navigated through the labyrinth he saw that the rooms were small and wood-paneled, just like the rest of the ship, with portholes giving them a view of the lake. Gellert exchanged greetings with everyone he passed, and Albus simply gave them polite little waves. After passing by what must have been every room, Gellert pointed to a door at the end of the hallway.

"That one's mine," he said. "Would you like to go inside?"

"Certainly," Albus replied, an excited feeling rising up inside his chest.

Hiding a grin, Gellert unlocked the door and pushed it open. " _Incendio_ ," he muttered, and lit a candle on his side table. Warm light illuminated the room, which was…

"Forgive me for asking," Albus said sharply, "but why is your room the smallest?"

It couldn't have been much bigger than a broom cupboard, and in fact Albus suspected that might have been its original use. There was barely room for a bed and a side table, and everything else was in a short chest of drawers tucked under the bed.

Gellert looked uncomfortable. "I just picked last, that's all." Then after a short silence, he added, "Er - I picked last because Hallberg didn't tell me about the rooms until everyone else already had. So I guess I didn't really pick at all."

Albus couldn't believe his ears. "Merlin, Gel, I knew he had it out for you, but…" He spread his arms as far as he could without hitting a wall. "Haven't you considered doing an Undetectable Extension charm?"

"I - I can't. I don't know how."

This Albus could not believe. The idea that a Triwizard champion could not perform an Undetectable Extension charm, which were somewhat complicated but not unreasonably so, was too far-fetched for him to swallow. Then again, the only spells he had known Gellert to perform besides the everyday ones were freezing spells and the Summoning charm, during the first task, which hardly showcased the magical talent Albus was sure he had.

"Then let me do one. I know they're sort of illegal, but if you just had a little more space in here - "

"Wait - Albus - no. I'm sorry. That was a stupid lie." Gellert looked angrily at the ground. "I can, but I'm not supposed to, okay? Not just because they're illegal."

"What do you mean by that?" Albus asked, but Gellert just shook his head.

"Can we not get into this now? I only wanted to show you my room, that's it." Gellert gestured around. "You don't have to get outraged on my behalf."

"I just feel like you shouldn't have to live in a _broom cupboard_ all year - "

"I'm used to it now, okay? Besides, I'm a Triwizard champion. I eat three fantastic meals a day. I still get to study magic. And I get to meet people like you. And Samir, and Medea, and Adeline, and all sorts of great wizards and witches. My life is great, and a small bedroom doesn't change that."

They smiled at each other. Albus thought he still saw a spark of defiance in Gellert's eyes, but knew not to press it any further. He didn't like to see the other boy angry.

"Sit down with me," Gellert suggested, and Albus did, shutting the door behind him. On the bed - which he had to admit was softer than it looked - he caught sight of the blue hair-clip Gellert had received after the first task.

"How's it going with the clue?" Albus asked.

"Well, I think I got the hard part over with," Gellert said. "I know that I'm supposed to talk to it, and ask it questions, and all. Although I won't lie. I only got that far because I heard you doing it."

"Ah," Albus said wryly, remembering when Gellert had found him talking to the shell for the first time. "I suppose I wasn't very sneaky."

"Not as sneaky as I was," Gellert said. "Still, I don't know who it is. I feel like I've been through every book about duelling in the fifteenth century. I think whoever's in there is getting pretty tired of me throwing out names to them."

"What do you know?" Albus asked curiously. His own clue had been much more recent, and he could only imagine how vast a topic such as duelling could be.

"Well, this person's passion was for duelling," Gellert began. "They had an older sister, and they practiced all the time as soon as they were old enough to both have wands. Then after they both went to school at Hogwarts, they competed in a duelling club together. However, every year, their older sister beat them in the annual competition. The last year, when their sister was a seventh year, they were determined to try their best and win, so all year they practiced. When the end of the year duel came about, this person and their older sister faced off for the last time, but they found that somebody had slipped a reflex-dulling potion into their morning pumpkin juice, and therefore was unable to have a fair competition."

"That's awful," Albus murmured, who knew how seriously the members of the duelling club took the competitions. "So you've been looking in books?"

"I do own Hogwarts, A History, so I checked that first - although I found that a bit too vague, so I owled and asked Auntie herself if she had heard of such a thing, but she hadn't. I found a few books about the Hogwarts duelling club, too, but… Honestly, I don't think whoever was in the hair-clip ever got to tell this story during their time. Surely a scandal such as this would have been taken more seriously."

Albus did not want to underestimate the amount of scandals that had happened between Hogwarts students since the school had been built, so he merely shrugged. "I do think you have it easy for one reason," he pointed out. "We happen to be at Hogwarts, where the story happened. It's the best - and probably only - place where you'll be able to uncover something like this."

"I've been considering just looking at a Hogwarts registry and reading off the names until one works," Gellert admitted. "Although I'm not sure that will work, since I think the magic might rely on figuring out the clue."

"Knowing the coordinators, it probably does," Albus said. "The registry isn't a bad resource, though. Consider this: The winner of the competition - the older sister - was probably the one whose name was recorded, not the loser. But they have one thing in common: they're siblings. If you know the older sister's last name, you can find the younger sibling's first name in the registry."

"That's brilliant," Gellert said in awe. "Does Hogwarts have some sort of school newspaper that might announce that kind of thing? Or a trophy room?"

Albus let his eyes twinkle. "Don't you think I've helped you enough? I already gave you a tour of the whole school, you know." Inside, however, he was itching to help, as he had already figured out his own clue. There was some part of him that loved to solve a good puzzle.

Gellert caught the look in his eyes and grinned, but said nothing. Instead he leaned over to kiss Albus.

"Thanks," he said. "You did help - a lot. You've already found out who your shell is, haven't you? So you know what the second task is?"

Albus was smiling, not only because he had remembered that the second task was something as harmless as a snowball fight. "You'll like it, I think."

"Like it?" Gellert said incredulously. "So we won't be dumped in a vat of lava again, I'm guessing? Because as fun as that was…"

"I wholeheartedly agree," Albus said serenely. "That was an incident I'm not eager to repeat, though I suppose the experience was good."

Gellert snorted. "You're so practical." Both of them, Albus noticed, were grinning at their laps.

"I like it," he said quietly, in case anyone could hear. Gellert looked over, and he felt a warm shiver go through him. With a note of happiness creeping into his voice, he clarified, "When you kiss me like that."

After a moment he glanced up and saw Gellert looking at him fondly. They met eyes and Gellert leaned over again for another soft, chaste kiss. "Like that?" he said, his face only centimeters from Albus'. "Or like this?"

Albus smiled again when Gellert's hands caressed his jawline, and they both met in the middle for a longer, more romantic kiss. He hoped Gellert couldn't hear his heart, because somehow even after all that had happened, he wasn't used to other people knowing how he felt. But Gellert's touch was comforting, and he knew, hidden in the depths of the Durmstrang ship, that they were safe from prying eyes.

They drew apart, and although Gellert wasn't blushing, the wide grin he wore was telling enough for Albus.

"I'm so glad to have you," Albus whispered, half hoping Gellert wouldn't hear him. Of course, making a wish like that ensured that he would hear every word.

"And I am glad to be here for you, Albus," Gellert said a low voice. "How this year would have gone if we had remained competitors, I don't want to know."

Albus agreed. In his time at Hogwarts, he had found the idea of any of his male classmates reciprocating feelings for him completely laughable, and the chances of him revealing his homosexuality had seemed similarly nonexistent. But the influx of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students had widened his horizons - and his choices. They were both aware how lucky they were to have found another wizard with whom they had so many things in common.

It was a while before Gellert finally asked, "Would you like to go to dinner sometime soon?" During meals Gellert had become a more frequent occupant at the Gryffindor table, which provided a new dynamic altogether when his other friends were there.

"I would be delighted," Albus said, realizing how late it had gotten. It was common for him to disappear for hours at a time or eat dinner late, so Elphias probably wasn't concerned. However, as much as he enjoyed Gellert's company, it would still be nice to leave the cramped room hidden inside the dark and musty ship. Although, upon second inspection, a small room seemed far less terrible when it was filled with such affection.

He reconsidered as Gellert got up. "Although, perhaps before we leave…"

Gellert seemed to read his mind and gave him one more kiss on the cheek, "All right, if that will satisfy you, Albus Dumbledore," he teased.

"It was quite satisfying, thank you," he said, immeasurably pleased.

And over dinner, no more kisses were exchanged, but plenty of eye contact and smiles were, which Albus didn't think he would ever get enough of.


	8. Chapter 8

Around this time of year, Hogwarts was guaranteed to be covered by a thick layer of snow, and each morning Albus woke up to find it had snowed yet again overnight. It only served as a reminder that the second task was nearing fast, but he had devised his strategies and practiced any charms he would need until he felt foolish.

It was the evening before, and Albus was enjoying a hot chocolate with Elphias in the courtyard, which wasn't as cold as it would have been because the walls shielded them from the wind. To Albus' amusement, a large pack of first years were involved in a full-out snowball war. He watched them, wondering if the task he would be involved in tomorrow would be as vicious as this. But, for the most part, they were too young to be able to use magic in their fight, their wands stowed away in favor of doing it the Muggle way.

"That's tomorrow's task, you know," Albus said cheerily to Elphias, who looked around confusedly, trying to figure out what he meant. Then his eyes landed on the snowball fight and he lowered his hot chocolate, looking shocked.

"What, pelting snowballs at each other?"

"Doesn't it seem rather anticlimactic?"

Elphias seemed to be considering it, then he laughed. "I bet in the days after, the number of snowball fights will drastically increase."

"Perhaps," Albus said. "I…"

He trailed off, for they had both noticed a short boy, wrapped in a hooded cloak, approaching them, giving the rowdy first years a wide berth. Only when he was within earshot of them did Albus realize it was Samir.

" _Bonsoir_ ," Albus said politely.

"Hello," said Samir as he approached. "May I sit down?"

Albus nodded and scooted over. For a moment or two it was uncomfortable, as Albus could make many guesses about his intentions but wasn't completely sure what he wanted.

Samir nodded towards the snowball fight. "Are you picking up strategies?"

Ah, so they were going to talk about tomorrow. Whether it was a way for Samir to gauge how prepared Albus was or not, he would humor him.

"Certainly," he said. "One can never be completely prepared."

They both watched silently as two first years snuck up behind another, then clobbered him in one motion, shoving wet snow down the back of his scarf. The two champions shared a wary look.

"Let's agree never to do that," Albus said, and Samir nodded solemnly. They shook hands, and then grinned.

"Good luck tomorrow, Dumbledore."

"You too, Soliman."

"Want some hot chocolate?"

Samir nodded and Albus conjured a cup, then filled it.

"Surely you didn't get this hot chocolate out of thin air, did you?" the Beauxbatons champion said warily, peering at the brown liquid.

"I didn't," Albus told him. "This wand is, in fact, not a wand. It is simply a very narrow flask."

Elphias cracked up while Samir frowned, although he was smiling as well.

"But really…"

"Best not to question his ways, Soliman. I'm sure half of the things he does are theoretically impossible," Elphias said fondly. "That's why everyone thinks he's so brilliant. Right, Albus?"

Albus smiled and pretended to take a sip from his now-empty cup. "Mhmm."

"Don't get too full of yourself, Albus," Samir said in French. "We'll see who's really the most brilliant tomorrow, right?"

Albus had to look at him to realize he was only joking. "I suppose we will," he replied. And, silently, the three boys watched the sun set over Hogwarts, until Mr Carpe corralled all of the first years out of the courtyard, and they decided they ought to leave too.

* * *

 _ **The Animation Charm**_

 _Take caution when animating non-living objects. If the caster does not clearly indicate his purpose for the animated objects, they could easily turn on him._

 _ **The Atmospheric Charm**_

 _This charm will allow the caster to create whatever sort of weather he wants, whether indoors or outdoors. It's important to know the counter-charm to this before casting (see page 167), or else the effects of the atmospheric charm can spread beyond control._

 _ **The Banishing Charm**_

 _This charm will send objects away from the caster, and is considered the opposite of the Summoning Charm (see page 394). Do not confuse this charm with the Vanishing Charm (see page 418)._

* * *

The second task was supposed to be free from surprises.

Albus had been instructed to arrive after lunch, right before the task had been scheduled to start, and from far away he could tell the stands were crowded. Gellert was behind him, treading softly through the snow as if it was second nature. Although the path they were following was well-trodden, Albus was gazing around to appreciate the sight of the untouched grounds. Again he was confident in his ability to perform well, and the fact that he had the opportunity to prepare ahead of time was a major relief.

Neither Albus nor Gellert had seen the arena yet - "I certainly tried," Gellert had told him that morning - and although both had worked out their clue completely, the challenge was compounded by the fact that they had no idea what the others would do. As fond as the two were of each other, both had stayed tight-lipped when the topic of the fight had rolled around.

The triangular arena had three color-coded tents, and it was with sly grins that Albus and Gellert temporarily parted. Inside the purple-and-white tent, only Professor Mole and a few of Albus' other professors were there. He barely had time to look around, as he was immediately approached by the Ministry official from the last task.

The man was holding out a heavy purple cape of sorts. "This is for you to wear during the task," he said brusquely, passing it to Albus, who glanced over it with amusement before tucking it under his arm. "The task will be scored based on several variables: attack, defense, and innovation. We expect fair play from all parties. Aiming to kill is forbidden. The Ministry bids you good luck."

Albus stared after him in surprise as he turned around and quickly strode out of the tent. "That was quick," he said to nobody in particular.

"He probably has to get around to all of the tents before the task begins," Professor Mole said distractedly. "Oh! Did you say hello to your brother?"

"My - Aberforth?" he said incredulously, looking back and forth quickly.

"Yes, he was here a few minutes ago. I had been talking to him and suggested that he come visit you beforehand."

"You were talking to Aberforth?" Albus said, who had not imagined such a thing possible.

"Yes, he and you have a lot in common," she replied with a smile. "His conversations with me are quite illuminating."

Completely bewildered at this point, he finally spotted Aberforth slipping through the flaps of the tent. "Abe!"

With only a glance in Albus' direction, the younger brother quietly came over to stand by the older. "Hello, Albus. Good luck today."

Albus wanted to laugh, but resisted. "Thanks for coming out, Aberforth, although I can't say I was expecting it."

The other boy paused, seeming hesitant. "Mother wanted me to write her and tell her every last thing that went on."

"It really is a pity that she can't come out," Albus mused. "I understand why, of course, but - "

"All right, all right, keep your voice down," Aberforth muttered.

A swift change in subject matter seemed to be the best route. "Where will you be sitting?"

"I guess on your side. I don't know."

Both of them looked at each other, Aberforth shifting uncomfortably.

"Well, if that's it…"

"Wait, Aberforth." Albus grabbed him by the arm before he could slink out again. "I really am happy you came to see me. It means so much to - "

"Why do you assume I came to see _you_?" he hissed. "And why am I only worth a conversation when you think it's about you? Why does it always have to be about you, Albus?"

His light eyes were dancing with fire, and Albus stared into them, taken aback. "I - I didn't realize…"

"Have fun with your snowball fight," he growled, and with that he strode off, his cloak whipping around and hitting Albus in the shin.

Mole swept around Albus, clucking her tongue and muttering, "Oh, dear," and Albus stared after his brother desolately, his wand limply resting in his hand.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" a muffled voice from outside came. "I would like to welcome you to the second task for the Triwizard Tournament of 1898!"

Beyond the tent, the snow was blinding; Gellert and Samir were smudges of red and gold beneath the towering stands. Albus wrapped his cloak around him tighter and listened hard for any other announcements, but the snow was falling so thick and fast he was unsure he'd be able to hear much of anything.

He looked up. It was a weather charm. Of course.

"On your marks…"

Albus pulled out his wand.

"Get set…"

Gellert shifted, and Albus thought of the feel of his warm hands.

"Go!"

" _Meteolojinx Recanto!_ " Albus shouted into the wind, flinging his wand up. Instead of waiting to see if his spell worked or not, he began to siphon snow from the ground, creating a temporary barrier around him. Then, he put his plan into action.

Snowballs weren't complicated, but faster by far than creating each one individually would be to duplicate them. His first one quickly turned into two, four, eight, sixteen, until he had a decently sized pile. Then he levitated one, and flung it at Gellert as hard as he could.

As soon the snowball reached the halfway point between the two boys, it melted, as if hitting an invisible wall. Albus sighed; he had been afraid of this much. His duplicated snowballs would be treated as true copies by the arena - completely worthless. He would have to create them one at a time.

The wind and snow had not improved, and Albus could only peer around the sides of his wall to see if his opponents were doing anything. Samir was hidden as well, and Gellert was at the very back of his side, crouching over and looking small. Albus couldn't hear - or see, really - the audience above them, but he could imagine them waiting in anticipation for something to happen.

He retreated and began the dreaded task of creating his weapons from scratch. It was a messy array, completely unorganized, but it would have to do. Albus lifted the first one with his wand and held it steady, creeping out to look at Samir's portion of the arena. The boy was nowhere to be seen.

With a dreadful crash, Albus' thin barrier was blasted apart by a burst of air, spraying snow all over him. And oh, there was Samir, his wand aimed at him and a snowball in his other hand. Albus reacted instantly, whispering " _Depulso_ " and shooting his own snowball at Samir. The Beauxbatons champion halted it in mid-air with a slash of his wand, then flung his own at Albus with exceedingly accurate aim. Albus could barely lunge to the side in time.

There was no stopping them now. Samir had the advantage of having his supply of snowballs hidden from view, and Albus' frantic shield charms were too small to effectively block everything. By the time he had managed to erect a comprehensive wall and magically fortify it, he was out of breath, and had certainly been docked points.

It was only then that he noticed the last of his snowballs disappearing.

He stared, disbelieving, at Gellert, who caught the snowball like it was a Quaffle in his outstretched hand. With a wave and a playful shrug, Gellert disappeared into some sort of igloo.

"Gellert…" Albus growled, smacking his forehead.

It was too easy.

Distractedly Albus created a pile for the second time by scooping snow out of the ground. Gellert was his next target, so long as he could lure the boy from his igloo. But when he looked out again, he saw Samir was making his job a little easier, shooting massive gusts of wind that collapsed the igloo on top of Gellert and nearly buried him.

The blonde boy stood up slowly, brushing snow off, and Albus allowed himself to feel bad for only a moment before he began his attack. He levitated his snowballs far above their heads, out of view unless one knew what to look for. "Steady," he murmured, eyeballing the distance to make sure they were right above Gellert. Then he snapped his wand down, and the snowballs rained down.

Albus wished more than ever he could hear over the snow - firstly, to find out how many points he had gotten, and secondly, to hear Gellert's reaction. Of course, Gellert made sure it was obvious how he felt. He grabbed a snowball by hand and frustratedly hurled it in Albus' general direction. Albus was smiling to himself even as Gellert began to wave his wand in some sort of pattern, focusing on the area around Albus' feet.

In the future, Albus would look back at that moment and know that it was the first time he realized Gellert was an incredible wizard. But before the moment occurred, Albus could not have guessed that he was about to shoot into the air, propelled by snow holding him like he was in a giant hand, with a force so powerful that he nearly lost his wand. "Gellert!" he yelled, but he was already too high up and far away for either of them to hear him through the snow. The crowd, however, was more visible at this height than they had been before, and Albus could see their shocked faces.

"And with only five minutes left, an incredible display of magic by Mr Grindelwald, completely unlike anything we've seen so far!" said the announcer, finally audible. "This will surely earn him points from the judges - "

Albus didn't get to hear the rest of what they said because he was falling back down. He cast a quick spell to cushion his fall, but before he could reach the ground Gellert cast _Arresto Momentum_ on him, then gently released it. He got up, relieved, and checked his watch.

It was only a few seconds past 2:25 PM. Albus waved his wand carefully over his robes in order to get the snow off, keeping his eyes on Gellert and Samir, between whom snowballs were flying left and right, Samir ducking behind a short wall every so often. Determined to win back a few points during the last few minutes, he stepped away from the center of the arena and smiled. He could be competitive when he wanted to.

Next to his feet, he began to cast one of the last few spells he had studied. He hadn't had much time to practice due to the nature of it, but he was confident in his ability. He had to be.

The next attack would involve enchanted snowballs. It was easy to send a snowball in a straight path, a little more difficult to make it curve, but it was much more difficult than both of these to make a snowball act on its own.

But Albus did just this, and his last dozen snowballs began to burrow through the snow like nifflers, hidden by the still-heavy snowfall. Half went towards Gellert and half towards Samir, who were still so busy duelling that they were completely oblivious to Albus' attack.

It was a glorious moment when at last the snowballs reached his opponents, jumped up from the ground, and knocked both of them over simultanously. Albus grinned as they spun around, trying to figure out what had just happened.

The voice of the announcer was suddenly audible, and the snow was no longer falling. "Time's up, champions! Please exit the way you came. A professor will be waiting to assist you."

Albus waved at Gellert and did what he was told. Professor Merrythought was inside the tent he had started in, holding a cup of tea for him.

"Good work, Albus," she said as they began to climb the stairs to reach the judges. "I was worried for a while there, but you had some good tricks up your sleeve, didn't you?"

"It wasn't quite Dark Arts I was defending against," he said, "but I'm glad it impressed you all the same."

The judges panel was a platform overlooking the arena, which was far below them, enough that he could not imagine having to squint down the whole time. All three of the headmasters were sitting in a row, parchment in hand.

"Hello, Mr Dumbledore," Professor Hallberg said, looking bored. "I judged you on your attacks today. You earned an eight from me. Congratulations."

"Thank you," Albus said.

"You got a five on defense," Maître Segal said. "Your fortified wall was good, but I'm afraid you simply got hit too many times by Samir and Mr Grindelwald. Good luck."

Albus thanked him as well, grimacing at the memory of Samir pelting him with snowballs.

"And Albus, I scored you on innovation. I'm happy to give you a nine. Your last attack was wonderful to watch; I believe the other two still don't know what happened," Professor Mole said, smiling. She handed him a piece of parchment with the three numbers on it.

Albus' gut reaction was to feel ashamed that he hadn't gotten a single ten, but then he thought about how enjoyable the entire task had been. He was out of breath, freezing, and ready to take a long bath in the prefects' bathroom, but he hadn't nearly died, and the only thing he had lost were points in a tournament.

He was at the foot of the opposite staircase when he heard footsteps behind him. Gellert was clutching his own piece of parchment. "Albus, wait up!"

Albus smiled and paused. "There you are."

"How'd you do?" he said. "And can you tell me how you did that last part? Segal tried to explain what happened, but it was all very rushed."

"I'll lend you the spellbook I got it from, but first you have to tell me - how on earth did you lift me in the air like that?"

"Surprised I had it in me?" Gellert asked wryly, and Albus shrugged.

"I'd never seen you do anything like that before."

"I'll explain - but can I do it later, if that's okay with you? I'm too happy right now. That went so well. Mole gave me a ten! She said the igloo was a good idea, and the part when I stole your snowballs."

"That's all right. And that's wonderful, really."

"Thanks!"

Hidden in the folds of their robes, Albus took Gellert's hand.

"Were you planning on going back to the ship?" he asked carefully.

"Just until dinner, but I don't have to."

Albus took a deep breath, his heart pounding. "Then can I take you somewhere? You've seen it before, but… er…"

Gellert laughed. "Why are you so uncomfortable? I won't be angry, just tell me."

"Do you remember the prefects' bathroom?"

Albus wasn't sure if Gellert had understood him until he looked over and saw his incredulous expression.

"Too much?" Albus murmured. "I'm sorry."

"Not at all," Gellert said, and this time Albus was the surprised one. "Just make sure you know a good locking charm."


	9. Chapter 9

Hogsmeade was more beautiful than ever during the winter months, when the roofs of buildings were hidden by snow, when stores were packed with people seeking warmth and the streets weren't too crowded. It was Gellert's first time going that year, although he had been when he was younger, with his great-aunt. Elphias, Lionel, Aurelia, and Matilda had split off to get a round of firewhisky at the Three Broomsticks, but the two champions were feeling too restless for such a thing. It was simply too nice of a day.

"I remember that," Gellert said, nodding at a bookstore. "Auntie used to go in there for what seemed like _hours_. It was terrible. Nothing in there for a young boy to do."

Albus, who had spent his own childhood poring over books, only smiled. "I'm guessing you don't want to go inside, then."

"I'll pass," Gellert said with a faint shudder.

"I don't suppose you know anybody who lives here, do you? I've never really been inside the residential district."

"Not personally, but Auntie used to visit some of her old professors here."

"Oh, there's the post office. We used to have to go down here all the time because some fourth-years blew up the Owlery."

"Must have been a pain," Gellert mused, peering inside. "What's past here? I don't really want to rejoin the rest of the group yet."

"Nothing, actually," Albus said. "Just a view of the lake and the school, if you want to see."

"Sounds delightful," grinned Gellert, so they made their way off the path and towards the top of the hill. Gellert sat down on a fallen tree as if he planned on spending the rest of the day there, and Albus watched him in silence.

"You know," Gellert said, "it's times like these I wish I went to Hogwarts."

"You do?" Albus said, shocked.

"Imagine, just for a moment, that we had both gone to Hogwarts from day one." Gellert turned away from the school in question and looked at Albus seriously. "We could have had so much time together. I could have gone to such a beautiful school, and had classes with Hogwarts professors, who seem so much kinder, and stayed in a nice dorm like yours. Don't you think?"

The only sound for a moment was the rustling of the trees. Gellert turned back to face the lake again, his shoulders low.

"Gellert, what happened with Professor Hallberg? Why does he hate you?"

Gellert leaned on his elbows, his cape draping around him like a curtain. "I guess I promised to tell you, didn't I? And you've told me so much."

"I'm not making you tell me, but… maybe I can help you?"

Gellert snorted. "I'm sorry, but you can't. But I owe you an explanation. After all we've done."

"You don't owe me. It isn't like that."

"Of course you'd say that, but it is, whether you want it to be or not. Anyways."

Albus held his tongue, waiting for Gellert to continue.

"A few years ago, I began to learn spellmaking. I soon discovered I had a specialty for a certain type of memory charm. I developed a very effective charm that I could cast over a large body of people, from a distance, that would alter their memories. I practiced casting it and lifting it... with the students of Durmstrang."

Albus' body was frozen in place, his eyes glued to the back of Gellert's head, unable to believe what he was hearing.

"Professor Hallberg found out something was going on after a while. He's a Legilimens - a powerful one. More powerful than I was an Occlumens. I hadn't expected to be caught, because I could just alter the person's memory and get away. In fact, I did do that several times. If you haven't noticed, I'm not very subtle."

"Oh," Albus whispered.

"So, last year, he caught me. I'm not supposed to do powerful magic anymore while I'm still a student at Durmstrang, except during the tasks. I agreed to just finish my schooling and leave. He says that if I do a memory charm again, he'll expel me. He… er… he reads my mind from time to time, still."

"What," breathed Albus. "But we just had - he'll find out about us."

"No," Gellert said fiercely, turning to stare at Albus. "He won't know. I promise, okay? I promise."

"How will you do that?" Albus stared miserably at Gellert.

"My Occlumency is already loads better - "

"Gellert, if you're so good at memory charms, how do I know - " Albus opened and closed his mouth. "How do I know you haven't done any to me?"

"I would _never_ \- "

"How do I know, if you can hide it from Hallberg now too? You said you did this for _years_ without getting caught. Now you tell me this?"

"Albus, I didn't mean to concern you. I thought we had reached that point."

Albus looked down. "No. No, I don't think so."

"Please, Albus…"

But without another word, he turned, feeling smooth, narrow darkness envelop his body, and leaving behind a deafening crack.

* * *

 _February 26_

 _My dearest Albus,_

 _I'm sorry. I can do many things, but I can't change the past. I can only hope to change the things that come. How can I regain your trust?_

 _G_

* * *

Albus rested his fist against the wooden door, his heart hammering. Then he lifted it and knocked three times.

After a moment, Kendra Dumbledore opened the door.

"Albus!"

He let her hug him and pull him inside, let her sit him down at the kitchen table and make him tea. It was all like a dream. He pretended he was just a boy and that he had been playing outside in the snow.

His mother set out some bread for him and told him she'd be back, but he could only pick and nibble at it. He felt wrong being in his house - it had been so long, and everything felt so different. He imagined Aberforth spending his holiday here, helping his mother in the kitchen.

"Oh, Albus?"

He turned around. It was his sister, Ariana. "Hello," he said uncomfortably.

"Why are you home?" she asked.

Albus sighed and looked at his hands. "I don't know. I needed a break."

"A break from school?" She tilted her head at him. "But it's a Saturday, isn't it?"

"More like a break from friends," he muttered. "Would you like some bread?"

Ariana nodded and took one of the pieces he hadn't touched. She was taller than he remembered, and calmer. He wondered if she was having fewer fits now.

"I saw you didn't win the second task," said Ariana, looking at him slyly. "It was in the Daily Prophet."

"Yes, the boy from Beauxbatons won," Albus said, caught by surprise that she had been keeping up with the tournament. "But I don't care much."

"That's probably good," she agreed, chewing thoughtfully.

Kendra hurried back into the kitchen, her wand flicking in every direction to put everything in its place. "Mum, you don't have to tidy up for me," Albus said, embarrassed.

"I'll have to do it eventually, right?" she said matter-of-factly. "Never know when we may get a visitor. Can't look like anything's amiss."

"I'll help then," said Albus, standing up and pulling out his own wand. "I've nothing better to do, after all."

Kendra sent him a grateful look and smoothed down her dress. "I've missed having you around, Albus. If only you could have come home for Christmas break."

His feelings of discomfort intensified, and he ducked his head, pretending his mother didn't know that he rarely helped around the house during the summer.

"And you never told me how it went! Have you been seeing Adeline Crouch?"

"Not since the Yule Ball, no," Albus said, shrugging the question off with ease, as he had already answered it many times before.

"That's a shame, she sounds so sweet. But I'm sure the one for you is out there, Albus, so don't let it get you down."

"No, I won't."

"Good."

Albus' cheeks went red, thinking of Gellert. It was all completely ridiculous to entertain the notion of Gellert causing so much havoc - but it also made too much sense, now that he thought about it. Why else would Hallberg be so angry about Gellert sneaking into the Restricted Section? Why else would he be so disappointed that Gellert had been picked? It was more than just a grudge; it was a completely normal reaction to finding out a student had the power to brainwash the entire student body of Durmstrang.

But was it right?

His face burned with anger and humiliation that he had let himself become so close to Gellert without putting any of it together. Had he been blind? The boy was charming, but he was also chaotic. He pursued the Hallows - a goal he still supplemented with both books and rumours - and occasionally mentioned that he felt that the wizarding world didn't act to its full potential - but who could argue with that?

Albus was dusting the curtains so forcefully that they were flapping about and being very noisy, and he quickly halted the movement, but his mother and sister had left the room. He was alone.

A loud tapping noise came from the back window, the unmistakeable sound of owl post, and Albus ran over and opened the window. An unfamiliar grey owl holding a slip of parchment pecked Albus on the arm, and he tried to shake it off while taking the note from it.

 _My dearest Albus,_

Albus tossed the parchment aside and told the owl, "No return note, sorry." The owl hooted sadly, but left regardless. He pushed the window shut, turned back around, and let out a faint gasp.

He had thrown the note straight into the fire.

"I wasn't going to read it anyways," he said to himself, although he knew it was a lie, and went upstairs to his bedroom, which had acquired a fine layer of dust and a small nest of fairy eggs.

He spent the night in Godric's Hollow, brushing off Ariana's questions and assuring his mother he was all right, and tried to make his thin sheets and small bed more comfortable before closing his eyes and shutting out all thought. The next morning, he woke before anybody else, and left a note before taking a walk through Godric's Hollow. The sun had not yet risen, and many of the streetlamps had burned out at one point or another.

When Albus returned to the house, his mother was crouching by the fireplace. "Oh, there he is now. Albus, Elphias called."

"Elphias!" Albus hung up his coat and got down on his knees beside his mother to wave at his friend's fire-engulfed head. "I hope I didn't worry you too much."

"I figured you'd be here," said Elphias with a wry smile. "Gellert came back to the Three Broomsticks and said he'd upset you, but he left soon after that. Are you okay?"

"I guess so," Albus said hesitantly, watching out of the corner of his eye as his mother stood up and left to give him some privacy. "I don't know if I want to talk about it yet. I don't know if I should."

Elphias' brow wrinkled. "You'll be coming back, though, right?"

"Suppose I have to. Magically binding contract and all. And my N.E.W.T.s, too."

"I can't take over for you?" he asked, and Albus shook his head sadly. "I would if I could, y'know."

"Much appreciated. But I should go back anyways. I... I shouldn't delay the inevitable, right?"

Elphias smiled. "Spoken like a true Gryffindor, huh?"

"I suppose I am one after all," Albus chuckled. "Sometimes it's hard to remember."

"Are you coming back now? I'm about to meet Lionel at breakfast."

Albus looked around the room, remembered Ariana, then shook his head. "No, I'll be a minute. I should go say good-bye."


	10. Chapter 10

Over the course of the next week, Albus threw himself into his coursework, and the following evenings, he laid in his bed and talked to the memory of Mirabella Plunkett. She was happy to hear from him, of course, but saddened by his troubles.

"I wish there were some way I could help, but I can't do much from inside this shell," she said sadly. "Perhaps you could carry me around in your pocket, and I could hear if he casts an Obliviate on you?"

"It's a good idea, but I know he can do nonverbal spells," Albus said. "And from the way he was describing it, it sounded like he could do it from far away as well."

"I suppose the only way to know is if one day, you've forgotten everything he told you," said the shell.

"Merlin, I hope that doesn't happen," Albus said with a shudder. "I would hate to learn about what he did all over again."

"Nor could I, and I haven't even met the man."

Albus let out a dry laugh. "Thanks for cheering me up, Mirabella."

"I do what I can."

It was only then that Albus realized that somebody was standing outside of the door. "My apologies," he said to the shell, setting it down into his trunk. "I believe I have a guest."

However, it turned out to only be Elphias, who could have come in any time he wanted. "I didn't want to interrupt your conversation," he said awkwardly.

"With a shell? Why?" Albus asked, although he felt reasonably confident he already knew the answer.

"I know things didn't work out between you and Adeline, and - oh, you're making me feel silly. I was supposed to deliver a message anyways. It's about the tournament."

"Oh?"

"You're supposed to meet Professor Mole with the other champions in the Great Hall. That's all I really know."

Albus forgot to nod for a moment. His mind was already attempting to come up with a thousand different ways to avoid interacting with Gellert, and the most appealing was to turn around and walk right back into the dorm. However, he must have looked quite troubled, because when he took in his best friend's face, the concern was real.

"Are you feeling quite all right? Have you had dinner yet?"

"No. I'll just go down, see what this is about, and then grab a bite to eat while I'm there, I suppose."

"If you say so…" Elphias frowned. "I'll go down to the kitchens and make sure the house-elves don't take the food away."

"Thanks." Albus managed a half smile. He couldn't remember how to make it look convincing.

Professor Mole was sitting at one of the student benches, looking disproportionately large and very out of place. Samir was the only other champion that had arrived, although he had a bag bursting at the seams with textbooks which Albus had mistaken for another person from a distance.

"Glad you could join us, Albus," Professor Mole said, smiling warmly at him as usual as he took a seat. "It seems as though Gellert is late again, though."

"Oh, no, ma'am," came Gellert's voice, and they turned to see him walking towards them, beaming and holding a bowl. "I was only making sure I got some of this delicious rice pudding before it disappeared."

Albus and Samir said nothing; Professor Mole seemed taken aback. "Er - all right, then," she said uncomfortably, twiddling her thumbs. "Please, take a seat, Mr Grindelwald."

Once he had done so, Professor Mole raised her eyes at the three champions. "Well, as I'm sure you could have guessed, I'm here to talk to you about the third task. As is tradition, you will know what type of event you will be competing in beforehand in order to prepare.

"The third and final task will be in the form of a race. Although it will be simple in theory, it will require you to use your magic to a greater extent than ever. I would be surprised if you had time to put your wand away at all during it."

"Sounds great," Gellert said calmly, and Samir nodded.

"Any questions?"

"So we will be running the entire time?" Samir said.

Professor Mole's smile widened. "Not unless you really want to, Mr Soliman. Anything else?" The boys shook their heads, and she made a shooing gesture. "Then go, get some sleep! All three of you have exams to be studying for!"

Albus got up as quickly as possible, but Samir tapped him on the shoulder before he could get very far.

"Hey, Dumbledore. Do you play Quidditch?"

Albus raised his eyebrows incredulously. "Not at all, why?"

"Cora and a few of her Hogwarts friends were thinking of playing a game tomorrow. Hogwarts versus visitors. You know anyone who would want to come? Your friend?"

"Elphias? Maybe, although he just plays for fun. He'll play any position but Beater." Albus stroked his chin. "I'll talk to the players on the Gryffindor team, though, and see if they'd be interested. Thanks for letting me know."

"No problem. You should come even if you don't play, okay?"

"Well, okay," Albus said, pleasantly surprised. "I will, sure."

"Great!" Samir grinned at him. "You have a good night, Dumbledore."

Albus wished him the same, then made a beeline for where Elphias was sitting at the Gryffindor table, the remaining food conspicuously piled in the middle. "You waited," he said gratefully, taking a seat.

"Of course," Elphias said, pushing a platter of pie towards him. "What was the meeting about?"

"Oh, the third task. It's a race. That's all I know, though - she wasn't very specific," shrugged Albus.

"That's awesome!" Elphias said, his eyes shining. "I can't wait to watch. I hope your mother gets to see as well."

"We'll see," Albus said, unsuccessfully attempting to spear his piece of pie. "I won't be getting my hopes up; she seemed so busy while I was home. Also, would you be interested in playing a game of Quidditch tomorrow against some of the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students? It's only a casual game. Samir wanted me to ask."

"Would I!" Elphias grinned. "That'll be fun. It feels like I never get to play anymore. Is that what Samir is talking to Gellert about?"

Albus spun around in his seat to confirm that, indeed, Samir was talking to Gellert as well. He felt like swearing, but instead just tried to finish his bite of pie without it going down the wrong way.

"Sorry, I forgot you two weren't speaking," Elphias said sympathetically. "You'll still go, though, right?"

"I did promise," Albus murmured. "And I want to see you play as well."

He watched as his best friend beamed again. "Thanks. I won't let Hogwarts down."

"If you knew how many times I've had to say that this year…"

Elphias laughed at Albus' exasperated expression. "Yes, I imagine it would get quite tiring!"

* * *

 _5 March, 1899_

 _8:00. Woke up._

 _8:26. Lemon tea and hard boiled eggs for breakfast._

 _9:44. Stopped by office._

 _9:52. Departed ship._

 _10:15. Visited Eupraxia at her office. Discussed arrangements for third task._

 _12:29. Departed. Ran into Luther. Made small talk in the corridor._

 _12:51. Stopped by library to pick up The Picture of Dorian Grey at Eupraxia's request._

 _13:34. Stew of unknown ingredients for lunch._

 _15:05. Spoke with Rancorous Carpe._

 _15:23. Departed the castle._

 _15:33. Arrived at office at ship. Answered owls._

 _17:40. Departed ship._

 _18:02. Roast chicken and mashed potatoes for dinner._

 _19:25. Arrived at ship._

 _If you do not remember any of these events, you have had your mind wiped by Gellert Grindelwald._

* * *

The ground was damp from morning rain when Albus and Elphias departed the castle the next day, Albus in a modest set of purple robes and Elphias in the Quidditch gear that had been gathering dust in his trunk all year. Matilda Moody had agreed to play for the Hogwarts team as well, although she and Lionel had gone ahead so that he could pick out a broom. Elphias had his own, of course, made by his father and him two summers ago.

Upon arriving, Albus settled himself in the highest section of the stands and opened his copy of _Transfiguration Today_ while Samir, Cora, and Elphias discussed what positions they would be playing. It was nice to get some fresh air after his long week, he thought, and he was glad to see that the entire point of the Triwizard Tournament - international co-operation - had not been totally lost.

From where he sat he could hear Lionel complaining about the fact that half of the brooms in the shed were Oakshafts and how was he supposed to play to his full potential. Albus chewed on his lip, frowning as a headline on Transfiguration ethics caught his eye. The field was a growing one, and although the content interested him, he wasn't in the mood to read something as heavy as "Brain creation, transformation, and destruction: is it better to have lived and lost than to never have lived at all?"

"What're you reading?" Elphias said from behind him, and Albus jumped in his seat and slammed the journal shut. His friend was hovering just above him on his broom, smiling innocently. Before Albus could reply, Elphias leaned in and murmured, "Gellert is here. I think he's coming up to talk to you."

"Ah…"

"I just wanted to let you know."

"Thanks, Elphias." Albus tried to hide his grimace. He truly was grateful, but it was difficult to put on a good face when all the hairs on his arms were standing up. "What're you playing, anyways?" he asked a little louder.

"Chaser, thankfully. With Cora and that Prince girl Gellert took to the Yule Ball."

"Oh, that'll be good. You'd better score!"

Elphias laughed. "I wouldn't count on it. I barely even remember what a Quaffle looks like!"

"That's a load of dung and you know it," Albus said, "but good luck."

Elphias gave him one last grin and shot off towards the center of the court, ducking to miss a Bludger that Matilda had just sent flying.

Albus smiled for just a moment before he heard footsteps behind him. He tensed up, knowing that whatever was about to take place would be unpleasant, unwanted, and generally uncomfortable for everybody involved.

"Albus. Hello."

He turned after a moment, taking in Gellert's entire appearance. He wore brown Quidditch gear and had his wavy blonde hair pulled back into a tiny ponytail. In his right hand was a mahogany broomstick with a triangular insignia carved into the end. As quickly as Albus' eyes noticed it, Gellert had pulled the broom away and leaned it against the wood-paneled wall behind them.

"Hello, Gellert."

"I hope your week has been pleasant, although I'm afraid I'm about to ruin it either way."

Albus almost laughed. "Get on with it, then."

"I suppose you know why I'm here." Gellert's bright gaze was dimmer than usual, and although he was standing up straight, he seemed reluctant to walk closer to Albus.

"You want to beg for forgiveness, I'm guessing," said Albus dismissively.

"No."

"No?"

"I do not beg anybody." At this, Albus glanced up at him and saw a defiant gleam in Gellert's eyes. "And that is not the reason."

"Enlighten me, then."

Gellert paused for a moment and bit his lip, apparently thinking over his words before he said them. Finally he said simply, "I miss you."

His blunt honesty never failed to throw Albus off course, but he managed to pull himself together in order to form a response. In a bluster of words he said, "That doesn't change what happened. What you did."

"I know. Which is why I'm also here to offer a solution. You can take it, or not. Your choice." Gellert raised his arms in a motion of surrender. "If you want all of this to be over, I'm going to give you the chance to Obliviate me. Remove the memories you don't want me to have so that there's no chance of Hallberg ever knowing what went on between us. Completely consensual."

For nearly thirty seconds, nobody spoke. Only the sounds of the Quidditch teams warming up behind Albus could be heard. Gellert's uncertain smile faltered after he took in the dumbfounded look on Albus' face.

"Not good enough?" he guessed.

Albus opened his mouth, about to ask if it was a real suggestion, but then thought better of it. He knew Gellert. Of course he meant every word.

"When's the next time Hallberg will - er, check your mind, do you think?"

"I'm sorry, but I have no way of knowing. Do you want more time to decide?" At Albus' nod, Gellert gave a grin. "Guess I'll just have to be on my best behaviour until then."

"Not a toe out of line," Albus said curtly as Gellert picked up his broom again - both had noticed Samir repeatedly glancing at them, and from the looks of it, the teams had assembled and were ready to start.

"Got it," Gellert said, swinging one leg gracefully over his broom, and in a smooth motion he flew out of the box and joined the other students.

There was a small gathering of students who were making their way up to the stands Albus was in, mostly from Beauxbatons, and as they settled down behind him he finally let out a deep breath and tried to clear his mind. Today was a day for him to relax and finally leave the castle for more than five minutes, and he would at least make an effort to enjoy it despite the disturbing idea Gellert had offered.

Albus could see that the game was six-on-six rather than the standard, so they would be playing until 150 points. Perhaps they had not found enough players in time, but it would not detract from the experience of watching his new friends play against his classmates of seven years. It lacked a certain chaotic quality that came with introducing Seekers and a Snitch, but he could enjoy Seekerless Quidditch as much as the original game.

Gellert had flown to the visitor's goal, apparently playing Keeper against the Hogwarts team. As expected, Matilda and Selwyn, the beaters for their Houses, were both brandishing their bats; Samir and a girl from Beauxbatons that Albus didn't know the name of were playing Beater for the visitor's side. Elphias had joined Cora and Medea Prince as Chasers, and Lionel was with a few students from Durmstrang. It was a strange sight indeed to see the students who usually enjoyed a good amount of rivalry join together as one - Albus felt a touch of pride, since as Head Boy he technically oversaw all of the houses.

"All right," Cora shouted out. "Everyone in position?" When it became clear that the twelve players were ready, she nodded down at a figure on the ground, who released the Bludgers and sent the Quaffle up.

The first few minutes were rough, Albus had to admit. Nobody was used to playing with each other, and Lionel kept calling his fellow Chasers by the wrong names. Selwyn hit a Bludger at Matilda by accident, and Medea Prince was possibly the least coordinated Quidditch player Albus had ever seen. He assumed Gellert had invited her, as he knew she was not on the Slytherin team, but it ended up not being too big of an issue after all. She was a quick flier, and ended up getting the hang of it. Elphias was actually quite good, despite being out of practice, and Albus had a quiet moment of celebration when he got the first goal past Gellert.

Although the game began to run more smoothly after the initial chaos, Albus' mind couldn't help but wander to the things Gellert had told him. While getting outed was high on Albus' list of things to avoid at all costs, he wasn't sure if it was morally right to take away Gellert's own memories of the incident after all the secrets they had shared. It had been both of their first real relationships. Even though Gellert had volunteered to have the memories removed, it almost saddened Albus to think that Gellert wouldn't remember his first time - almost as if a little part of him had died, the part of him Albus had helped create.

But then again, Gellert had stolen the same thing from many people, numerous times throughout the years. In fact, he could have done it again while he was at Hogwarts. Why should Albus hesitate to cast a memory charm in self-defense? This entire mess could be over with and Hallberg would never know the difference. Could he really be so careless to throw away his chance at safety because of sentimentality?

"Heads up!" Matilda yelled at the Hogwarts Chasers, taking a huge swing. The three of them scattered, and she hit a Bludger towards Lionel, who promptly dropped the Quaffle. Elphias dove underneath and grabbed it, and in one fluid motion he flung it towards the leftmost hoop.

"Game! Hogwarts wins!"

The Beauxbatons students behind Albus immediately left, muttering in French. The Hogwarts team had flown together to congratulate each other, while the visitors looped down to the ground. Albus stood up, intending to congratulate his friends, and had just stepped onto the staircase when a hand touched his back.

"Won't be the last Hogwarts win, will it?" a Hufflepuff girl with twin braids said, grinning knowingly at him. Albus gave her the politest smile he could muster, then turned around again. In the story of his life, little comments like these were just icing on the cake.


End file.
